Our Song
by Esso
Summary: The story of Elizaveta Hedevary and Roderich Edelstein - how they, surprisingly, fell in love and - even stranger - fell out of it. Discontinued.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well, first off, I freakin' love Austria x Hungary!! BEST. COUPLE. EVAR. *drools* So, of course I'm writing them a story! ^^ **

**Yes, the title comes from the song with the same name, but the song has nothing to do with this story. ^^; You'll see why I picked the title...eventually.**

**Don't own Hetalia. Dur. If I did, I would be able to draw and wouldn't have written this fic, I would've put my Austria/Hungary -ness in the real thing ;)**

**Reviews = awesome points. Flames = campfire songs {all are welcome to join ^^}**

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She pressed her forehead to the wall and forced herself to breathe. The grey bricks, coupled with the grey light of early morning, made her predicament and her tiny room seem all the more grim.

Not that it was anything different than her usual predicament. Work, work, work, all day, and get nothing for it.

"Elizaveta?" A knock accompanied the quiet voice.

"Ugh, whatever. Come in."

The door creaked open and a tiny figure in a green dress walked in. "Where've you been? We gotta get breakfast started."

"Right. Thanks, Feliciano." She snatched a ribbon off of the crate she used as a table and tied her hair back. With a brisk air of superiority, she took Feliciano's hand and made her way to the kitchen. Sadly, the poor kid was never much help, since Italy couldn't quite reach anything.

But Elizaveta had learned to compensate for this, and had breakfast ready in time, although it wasn't breakfast for her. Like most days, her rebellious streak nearly took over and she was tempted to suggest eating the feast with Italy.

"Hungary?" Her master's voice called from the adjoining dining room. "Have you forgotten my breakfast?"

_I sure wish I had_, she thought, grabbing the tray of food and kicking the kitchen door open. The door banged against the wall, bouncing back and forth several times with the force of the blow. The noise caused the lone man at the table to look up from his newspaper in surprise, not in the shock she'd expected.

His brown hair was tousled as always, his glasses had obnoxiously slipped down his nose again. His brown eyes were filled with restrained emotion as he studied her defiant and somewhat anxious expression. Of course he studied her. That was all he cared about:

His piano,

His books,  
His money.

"No, in fact," Elizaveta snapped, "I haven't forgotten."

"Good." He went back to reading his paper, then looked up again suddenly when he realized that she hadn't moved. "Are you going to do anything about it?"

"Maybe."

"Why do you keep testing me like this?" He set the newspaper down and rested his elbows on the table, hands clasped. "You know it doesn't work."

"I have no reason to obey you."

"We go through this every day: yes, you do."

"We go through this every day," she mimicked, "I won't work for a man I don't respect."

He was no longer paying attention. The lecture had gotten old before she'd given it the first time.

"Well, _Mr._ Austria," she hissed, coming so close as she walked by that her breath grazed his cheek, "I'm off to clean up your crap." She stopped at the door, smirking. "Literally."

He tried not to pale at this newest horror from the girl's lips. Sometimes, she was much more trouble than she was worth.

*

Elizaveta rolled her eyes as she rolled her sleeves up again. Austria was playing his stupid piano {she could hear it from across the entire freaking house} and she was scrubbing this floor that no one ever saw…except Austria, when he had the mind to inspect it.

Suddenly, over the obnoxious piano music, she heard sobbing. Without any warning, Feliciano ran into the hallway and grabbed onto Elizaveta and proceeded to wet her dress with tears.

"Umm…what's wrong?" Elizaveta ventured, attempting sympathy.

"Holy…Roman…Empire…" Feliciano choked, "…gone."

"Oh." Well, that explained it. The two of them had been having their little love thing going on for the past few weeks. Of course Italy would be having some head trauma without him.

"What's going on?" Now Austria stood in the hallway, staring down at Elizaveta, who was kneeling on the floor clutching the bawling Feliciano to her chest. "You two have work to do."

"I do." Elizaveta stood up, still holding Feliciano. "But Feliciano doesn't."

"Why not? Surely you cannot do all the work by yourself…"

"I can, and I will. And for your information, the kid has lost the one person that ever cared about her, so give 'er a break."

"Ah…well, then," Austria said awkwardly, "I think I'll give her the day off."

Feliciano took this opportunity to break free of Elizaveta's grasp and run away to some other part of the house. Elizaveta grabbed her bucket full of water that she'd been using to clean the floors with and started to walk away as well.

"Hungary, wait!" Austria said.

"What?"

"I…um…where are you going?"

"Kitchen. Gotta clean up your breakfast and start on your lunch, you know."

"Um…well, I'd like to help."

The bucket almost dropped right out of Elizaveta's grasp. "You_ what_?"

"I wanna help."

"Well, that's peculiar." She paused to let a playful smirk slip across her face. "But sure."

He followed her to the kitchen, standing there awkwardly while she dumped out the dirty water and threw some dishes into the oversized sink. Hungary began to wash said dishes. Finally, Austria walked over to her, still feeling awkward. "Um…what should I do?"

"Help me," she said. "But roll up your stupid sleeves first. You're gonna get crap all over your fancy clothes if you aren't careful." She laughed and rolled up his sleeves for him.

"Um…I could've done that myself."

"You usually don't mind me doing things for you."

"Sorry," he muttered, turning away. "I was only trying to help."  
"Get back here," Elizaveta said, her voice suddenly authoritative. He turned to face her again, making her expression soften. "I do appreciate it."

And as she worked side by side with Austria, she would cast glances at him, smiling inwardly at his determined expression. Had he ever done hard work in his life? She didn't think so. And yet here he was, trying his hardest to help her out.

Suddenly, she realized something.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to anyone who even read this stupid thing! ;) I have at least another chapter finished and several more planned - I'll put 'em up every week or so if enough people like this v.v **

**So yeah. That's about it .**

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"You could at least thank me, you know."

He looked up from his stupid newspaper again, shoving his glasses back up his nose as he did so. "What for?"

"I actually got your damn breakfast here on time."

"You shouldn't curse. It's not ladylike to curse."

"Shut up. You've got your food, be happy."

"So, may I ask _why_ you're on time?"

Elizaveta paused her tirade, staring at him for dramatic effect before continuing. "You're not a bad guy. Guess I can respect you a little after what you did for Feliciano yesterday."

He'd never listened to her lectures, just like she'd never listen to his reprimands about her bad mouth. "Really?"

"Yeah. Just don't think that because I respect you doesn't mean I'll submit perfectly."

"I don't think I could ever expect that of you."  
"Good." There was a slightly awkward moment, at least for Elizaveta, as he turned his attention back to his newspaper.

"Well, Mr. Austria, I'm off to do some other menial task," she said, setting off for the door. She wondered if he would notice the painful lack of sarcasm in the oft-repeated sentence.

And, to her utter, heart-attack-inducing shock, he did. Or at least he responded to her. "You may call me by my name, you know."

"And that would be?"

"Roderich. Yes, you may call me that, Miss Hungary."

"While we're at all the sappy name stuff, stop with the 'Miss' shit. I'm Elizaveta. _You_ call _me _that."

"Very well…Elizaveta." Was she going mental, or did the way he said her name sound light, _joking_, even?

"Very well…Roderich."

"I thought you had work to do."

"I might…Roderich." She smirked.

"Shut…up!" It was a tentative, failed attempt that made Elizaveta laugh.

"You _suck_ at that! You need to stick to your fancy words. Seriously. Even 'shut up' sounds weird coming from you."

He looked slightly embarrassed and didn't say anything further. She suddenly felt bad for him. Poor guy, he knew nothing about life except for his piano, and that didn't even count.

"Hey, don't worry about it," she said nonchalantly. "If you hang around me enough, you'll pick it up."

"And you expect me to 'hang around' you?"

She paused for a moment, thinking. Then her expression burst into an uncontrolled, slightly scheming grin. "Yes I do…Roderich."

*

Elizaveta's least favorite task {other than cleaning bathrooms} was being forced to remain in the hallway outside the piano room for any prolonged length of time. Yes, the piano had its own room, a fact that Elizaveta found amusing. The problem with being in that hallway was that Austria – or Roderich, as he randomly wished to be called – was usually in there, making too much noise.

Today was worse than usual. Every other day, the music at least sounded rational. For some reason, on this occasion it sounded like a five year-old was trying to make something akin to music.

It was getting on Elizaveta's last nerve. Standing in the doorway, she could see him giving the piano a death glare.

_Congratulations, you're officially psychotic! _She wanted nothing more than to saunter in there and say that without some form of repercussions.

But instead, she stayed where she was, determining that a simple, "What the hell?" would suffice.

It worked well enough, she supposed. Roderich actually let the piano win the glaring contest and glared at her instead. "Language, Elizaveta."

"Answer the question."

"I prefer not to. Now, go away."

"Why?"

He gave her a long, hard stare. "_You_ work for _me_. Get used to it."

"Not until you tell me what you're doing."

"I'm writing a song, if you must know. There, I answered your question. Now leave. I suppose you have work to do."

"You're writing a song? Seriously? Sounds like crap to me."  
His glare intensified. "That's because it's not _done_."

"What's it called?"

"I don't know. I just started."

Well, she sure knew how to piss him off. It was pretty fun, actually, Elizaveta realized. Despite this, she did have a lot of work to do, since Feliciano was still pretty useless in her soul-crushing grief. She turned to leave, in order to get started on the day's ceaseless menial labor.

"Where are you going?"

She stopped. "To _work_. Like you suggested."

"Oh."

She kept walking.

"Elizaveta."

"What?" Now it was her turn to be annoyed.

"Stay. I would like your opinion on my song."

Scratch that. Elizaveta wasn't annoyed – she was downright confused. "Fine. But don't get all pissed when I haven't done any of my work."

"As I recall, you weren't too enthusiastic about it."

"Touché."

She walked into the room, feeling like some sort of epic adventurer as she crossed the huge expanse between the door and the piano. The room didn't seem quite as huge as it did when she was on her hands and knees cleaning it, but the awkwardness of the situation made it just as intimidating.

When she finally got there, she looked around for a chair, and, finding no furniture in the room besides the piano, decided just to stand. He'd forget about her being there soon enough and she could make her escape.

Instead, he looked up, staring at her with no real expression. "Why are you still standing?"

"'Cause there's nowhere to sit," she said, drawing out the words in annoyance.

"Oh. Um…well, you can sit here, then." He scooted over on the piano bench, giving her a mixture of his do-what-I-say-now stare and a sheepish smile.

_And this isn't awkward at all, _she thought, sitting gingerly on the edge with one leg sprawled over the side. Finally, to top off all of the uncomfortable-ness, he didn't start playing as Elizaveta expected he would. He just sat there, silently staring at his piano. For once, she saw a piece of sheet music against the ebony. It didn't matter that it wasn't even half-filled with notes – it was actual, tangible music.

"Apocalyptic," Elizaveta muttered, almost automatically.

"Huh?" He didn't look away.

Well, she definitely _hadn't _meant for him to hear that. "Um, well, you actually have music. Like…paper." The correct term had currently escaped her, in her flustered and already uneasy state.

Oh, how she would've laughed if he'd said something such as, "Well, I never need to read the music, because I am amazing and I'm a genius and I'm awesome." But, sadly, that would be _Gilbert_ saying that. Except he couldn't play piano.

Instead, Austria/Roderich decided to be boring. "I usually don't need music. However, this time I wanted to be sure I remember the song I write."

"Makes sense." She looked away, hoping that if she pretended to be interested in an empty room, he would forget about her.

And he did, for a while. The only thing that interrupted the silence was the occasional five-second bit of music by Austria. Elizaveta was bored to death. She couldn't help thinking that she wouldn't get any work done, and if he got pissed at her for it, she could and would tell him that it was his fault. She was almost looking forward to this.

Then, out of nowhere, there was music. It didn't sound quite as wondrous as his music generally did, but she figured this was because the song wasn't quite done yet. From what she could tell, the song was loud, strong, full of random minor-key notes, full of life.

It was the first time she had ever liked a sound that came out of that box.

The music dropped off suddenly. Austria was smiling to himself – no, beaming was more like it. He looked sufficiently pleased with himself. Good for him.

"Nice," she said. "I liked it."

More beaming.

"Do know what it's called _now_?" Elizaveta grinned. She truly enjoyed annoying him.

"Yes." He was smirking, a nearly apocalyptic sight. "It's called 'The Obnoxious, Annoying Maid Who Knows Nothing About Life'."

"That's sweet," she said in a false-happy voice. "You wrote me a song."

"It's not _for_ you. It's about how much of a pain you are."

"It sounds too epic for that."

He looked at the floor, not the piano this time, and Elizaveta could've sworn he was blushing about God-knows-what. _Why the hell is every single guy I know a total wimp?_

It didn't look like he was doing anything {it never did}, so she stood up, causing him to stare at her again. "I'm going to do my chores, since I'm done reviewing your little song."

He nodded, turning his attention back to the piano. God, he was so damn predictable.

According to cliché, she was at the door when he finally said something. "Elizaveta."

"What?"

"I'm having guests on Friday."

"Lovely."

"Stop interrupting me."  
"Sorr-"

"Will you just listen for once? I need to impress these people, so make sure everything looks nice and the food tastes decent."

"_I_ can cook. It's Arthur that can't cook."

Elizaveta knew how she would've responded to herself, but Austria was more interested in that stupid song than whatever he was planning. He never cared about anything other than that piano anyway.

She found it comical, that he claimed she knew nothing about life when all he knew was a room with a piano.

Yes. His stupidity made her laugh. At least she was laughing.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** First off, I'd like to thank **takara ****. co . jp** and **squidney101 **for the wondrously awesome reviews. Gilbert is pleased xD And for everyone who faved/alerted/read this fic, you're pretty awesome too ;) I'm glad I'm not the only Austria x Hungary nut out there.

Um, I do believe this chapter is a bit shorter v.v Ah, well...I'm working on chapter 4 now and it's adorable! So hopefully that'll make up for the shortness.

Don't own Hetalia, reviews are awesome, you know the drill...

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Elizaveta had shoved Feliciano in her room – which was the only place the still grief-torn child could be without embarrassing everyone. She had set the last shiny dish down on the long table and was dreading a long night of watching a bunch of guys stare at each other.

She put her hands on her hips and surveyed her last-minute decorating job. Not too bad for a girl who hated anything slightly girly and only had thirty minutes and some random crap she found around the house.

It was a generic dining room, with a long table covered in sparkly things. Sadly, it _had _taken her and Feliciano half an hour to find all of the aforementioned sparkly things.

He had better like it. She wasn't even getting paid for this, and she still went out of her way to obey him. Only because he'd helped Feliciano, she told herself. Only because she respected him for not being a complete and utter idiot.

"Elizaveta?" And there he was, looking half-worried and half-awkward. The awkward half didn't surprise her in the least, but with his emotions so obvious, she couldn't help but be wary.

"Yeah?" She gave him her best irreverent stare, arms crossed.

"They're not coming."

"That sucks. Mainly for me. I just wasted all afternoon on-"

"I was still going to eat all the food."

"By yourself?" Elizaveta gaped as she studied him. He was a freaking stick! Ivan was the only nation who could've even come _close_ to eating all that food.

"Well, um, you could help me out."

_That_ certainly intensified her discomfort. "Um, sure."

He was grinning sheepishly as he sat down. Elizaveta slipped into the seat across from him, slouching just because she knew it would piss him off. She looked out across the sea of edible things, which had all been prepared for an unknown number of guests. It was peculiar the way things had worked out – just her and Austria and an inordinate amount of food.

He started to eat in his silent, unobtrusive manner. She reached for the closest food item so that she wouldn't have to stare at her plate all night. Well, the night was turning out _almost _the way she had been expecting, except _she_ was eating in awkward silence and not a Random Man.

"So, Elizaveta…" It was a stretch at conversation, but at least he was speaking. It was more entertaining that way.

"What?"

"Do you…_like_ working here?"

"Hell no."

"Language, Eliza-"

She laughed, cutting him off. "You're amusing, you know that."

"I'm glad," he muttered, staring at his plate instead of her. Wow, he used sarcasm! She was deeply shocked and impressed, her own sarcastic tendencies coming out in these feelings.

And suddenly, under the table, she felt something brush against her knee, bare because of the dress she was wearing. Almost as a reflex, Elizaveta looked up, her startled gaze meeting Austria's.

"Sorry," he said quickly.

"Um…all you did was touch me on accident. Do you really think I care?"

"Not anymore."

She smiled a little. "Funny stuff, Roderich, funny stuff…"

"I never knew you thought I was funny."

"Me neither. It's mainly my sadistic side that finds you so."

"I always thought my talents included only music…not comedy."

"Hell, you surprise yourself sometimes. I know I do."

He sighed in what Elizaveta assumed was false exasperation. "I'm not going to remind you about your language."

"Good," she smirked. "'Cause it won't do a damn thing."

"You said that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Hell yeah!" She grinned.

"Ugh!" He was trying to appear angry, but Elizaveta could tell that he was laughing. "Are you always like this?"

"You should know. I've lived here for how long?"

"A long time." Austria's smile faded. "It's a shame how we don't know much about each other and we've lived in the same house for so long…"

Elizaveta raised an eyebrow. "I don't find it that strange. All I ever did was bring you your food and cleaned your house. Not much time for bonding and shit."

"Elizaveta…"

"Roderich…" she mimicked, beaming.

He studied her face for a while, so much so that she looked away out of the awkwardness of it all. "You're impossible."

"You're…"

"I'm what?"

"You're pretty damn awesome."

She was pretty sure that the shy smile meant he wouldn't attempt to reprimand her again.

"You look adorably non-threatening when you do that," she remarked, picking at a glob of chocolate pudding with a fork.

Now he was starting to blush, Elizaveta noted. This was priceless. "W-why are you eating pudding with a fork?"

_Nice try, directing the conversation away from yourself. _"'Cause I don't want to get a spoon dirty, since I have to clean all this crap."

"I could help."  
"That's sweet. But I can handle it. Always have, always will."

He wasn't blushing anymore, but the awkwardly shy smile was still there. "I admire you for that."

"Really?" Elizaveta tried not to appear as shocked as she was.

"Yes. You're…a fighter, I suppose that's how you put it, and I sit in a room and play my piano all day." His expression was obnoxiously serious.

Grinning, she poked him under the table with her bare foot. "Smile. You look like you're gonna kill me when you don't. I would prefer to remain alive, thank you very much."

He smiled tentatively, but it was a smile nonetheless. "That's better." She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, immensely proud of her handiwork.

"Glad I could be of assistance." He rolled his eyes.

"Your sarcasm amuses me."

"It seems like everything about me amuses you."

She laughed. "Then I guess you're just an amusing person."

"You should smile more, too. Even though you still look _you're_ going to kill _me_." Elizaveta found this observation quite random, but it still made her smile in spite of herself.

"As you wish."

Their eyes met and stayed there for once. He had nice eyes…

She mentally slapped herself and got up quickly, mumbling an excuse about work. She refused to look back at his face.

And – oh God – Elizaveta was pretty sure her rapid heartbeat wasn't completely due to flustered nerves.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews and faves and alerts and stuff! I'm so jazzed that I'm not the only one who loves this fic and this pairing *radiates rainbows and sunshine*

FILLER. CHAPTER. v.v That's what this is, pretty much. I've started ch 5, which is actually pretty important in the plot, and I'm loving it. I think it'll be longer than usual, since I'm on spring break and have more time to write!

Also, I'm hoping to update every week, Friday or Saturday -ish. I have no idea how long this will take, but I have the ending planned out, and my accomplice Melon and I were plotting some super-amazingly-fluffy stuffs!

'Kay, I'll shut up now. ^^;

**Disclaimer: **This disclaimer is standard.

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Elizaveta tried to avoid talking to Austria for a few days, which wasn't too hard if she actually did all her chores for once, plus Feliciano's. She hoped that if she didn't talk to him she'd prove to herself that she _didn't_ peek into the piano room every time she walked by, just to look at him. He was writing a song again, she could tell. And every time she stopped at the door, she would force herself to take a deep breath and walk on.

She had stopped in front of that room again, leaning against the doorframe.

"What are you doing, Elizaveta?" He was staring at her. Oh, God.

"Listening to you."

"So you're not angry?"

This caught her off guard. "Why the hell would I be mad?"

"Because you left so suddenly the other night."

"Oh. Sorry 'bout that."

He looked as if he wanted an explanation, but Elizaveta was not about to give one. "You were a more interesting companion than Gilbert and Ludwig."

"Of course," she laughed. "Gilbert won't shut up about his awesome."

"He annoys you as much as I, then?"

"Hell yeah. I've been kicking his ass since we were kids."

"Language, Elizaveta."

"If you keep doing that, you'll make me laugh every time."

"Good. You deserve to laugh. I mean, it's the least I can do…" He looked at his piano, cheeks tinted red, from what Elizaveta could see.

"Thanks." Her smile was gentler than a usual smirk. "Did you write any more of my song?"

"It's not your song. It was _about_ you."

"But did you write more of it?"

"Yes. I think it's going to be one long piece…you know what I'm talking about?" The way he looked at her seemed like he thought her an idiot.

"Duh," she rolled her eyes.

"And don't ask me what it's called. I don't know."

"I hate you!" she laughed.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you did."

Elizaveta's brain, hardwired for comebacks and biting sarcasm, had provided her with the next sentence, but her logic filter screamed "NO!" _Just say it, and walk away_. That would be the easiest thing to do, of course.

"I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't."

She didn't run - she walked away, as if she didn't care, as if uttering those words wasn't difficult in some stupid girly way.

"Elizaveta!" The voice was too high to be Roderich.

"Feliciano?"

The child looked different after being self-confined in a room for a few days straight. Feliciano was taller, it seemed, shoulders straighter, eyes less childish in their incessant light. The dress did not fit quite as well, and suddenly, Feliciano looked _boyish_.

"Feliciano…" Elizaveta said, barely able to get the words out due to shock. "Are you…a boy?"

"Yes. What else would I be?"

And her shame turned to amusement with the _boy_'s confused expression. "Sorry about the dress. Guess I thought you were…a girl."

"Holy Roman Empire said I was pretty in my dress."

_Holy Roman Empire probably thought you were a girl, too_.

But he'd said his lover's name with a straight face, without the least hint of regret or longing. Could the kid be over his love by now? Probably. It's not like they were really _in love_. They were just two kids, and, besides, it wasn't like love was the only thing in the world. Feliciano was doing fine. Love wasn't that traumatic.

"Of course you were. I made the damn thing," she said finally, half-expecting someone to correct her language.

The kid just giggled. Elizaveta reached her hand down to ruffle his hair, but suddenly realized that he came up to her shoulder now. Frightening.

"Hey, Feliciano…"

"What?"

"You wanna skip work and hang out?"  
He blinked. "Skip…work?"

"Yeah. Totally."

"But…isn't that bad?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. And I honestly don't give a damn."

"Can we have a picnic?" Feliciano was ignoring her. Since when was that odd?

"Sure. I don't really care."

"YAY!!" The _boy_ grinned and started skipping down the hall toward the kitchen, singing some song in Italian.

"Shut up!" Somehow Elizaveta knew that that wasn't going to work.

Ten minutes later, though, the two were slipping out the back door, picnic basket being swung back and forth as Feliciano skipped. In truth, Elizaveta was the only one doing any slipping out of back doors. Her companion's overly happy demeanor didn't qualify as sneaky.

He led her past the land that belonged to Austria and up a nearby hill. Elizaveta let him lead. She was more than happy to relax for once and get away from that stupid man who made her say stupid things. Damn him…

"Elizaveta~!" Feliciano giggled. "We'll eat here!" He had busied himself spreading out a blanket and setting out the pasta while she had been thinking.

"Okay." She smiled a little and sat down across from him. He handed her a plate of pasta and a fork. Neither said much as they ate – Elizaveta had never talked much to the boy and therefore she didn't know what to say.

Strange…she had also never talked to Roderich until recently, except for their usual morning banter.

She looked back over at Feliciano, who had flopped over on his back and was looking up at the afternoon sky. He was a boy, but he sure as hell didn't act like one. "Hey, Feliciano…"

"Mmmhmm?"

"You know, people thought I was a boy when I was little."

He smiled. "You would make a good boy."

"Hah. Thanks." She tried her hardest – she really did – to sound serious. "Gilbert never thought so."

Feliciano giggled. "Does Lizzy like Gilbert~?"

"Hell no!"

Still no correction on her language.

"If you say so!" The boy was still all too oblivious of her irritation. The bubbly smile was getting obnoxious. Lucky for the kid, he was pretty cute.

"No, I promise you, I'm not in love. With _anyone_."

"Why not? Love is a wonderful thing!"

"I wouldn't know," she muttered as he started rambling about how wonderful love really was, waving a spoon in the air to emphasize his point. He was just a child…how much could he really know about love?

Eventually, there was silence. "Are you done?" she asked.

"Yes. Weren't you listening?"

"Um…yeah. Of course."

Thankfully, since Feliciano was a child, he didn't notice her lie. "What should we do now, Lizzy?"

"I dunno. Whatever you wanna do, I guess."

"Yay!" He got up and started skipping around, still waving his spoon. Elizaveta rolled her eyes and merely watched him, not feeling overly motivated to frolic about.

She had closed her eyes and lay down on the grass, about to fall asleep, when out of nowhere came the voice she had come out here to avoid. "Elizaveta?"

"Holy shit!" she said as a reflex, sitting up quickly and glaring at Roderich.

"Language, Elizaveta."

She wanted to either laugh in relief or slap him. She wasn't precisely sure which one, though. And, in the time it took her to decide, he had begun speaking.

"Would you mind if I joined you?"

"No?"

"You didn't have to let me, you know."

"So you wouldn't have made my life a living hell if I refused?"

He feigned shock. "Elizaveta! How dare you think so lowly of me?"

"Well, you _are_ my tyrannical master. It fits the cliché, doesn't it?"

"That it does, I suppose." A pause. "So there _is_ more to you than foul language and violence?"

"There's more to everyone, don't you think?"

"Yes, I do believe there is. At times I think there's even more to myself that I do not fully comprehend."

"That sucks. I mean, how can people understand you if you don't understand yourself?"

"I do agree, Elizaveta. It's quite problematic. I always thought I knew everything about myself, and then whenever something changes in my personality and such, I always feel that I must catch up in my knowledge of myself."

"So things change a lot for you?"

"Not usually."

"Me neither. But there's been some stuff getting screwed up in my head lately. It's such a pain in the ass."

"Language," he smiled. "But, other than that, I feel quite the same."

"So you're trying to catch up in knowledge of yourself, huh?"

"Yes. It's much more difficult this time."

"That's peculiar, 'cause, yeah, I don't really get what's wrong with me either."

He was silent for a moment, staring out into the sky beyond the grassy hilltop and Feliciano's frolicking form. "Do you think, Elizaveta, that we could be experiencing a similar change, or at least one caused by the same thing?"

"Oh, Mr. Austria~!" Feliciano had finally noticed his master's presence and had skipped back over to the two.

"Hello, Feliciano."

"Oh, yeah, Roderich…Feliciano's a dude."

The dude in question was giggling and Roderich was looking at Elizaveta in a mixture of confusion and amusement. She shrugged and let herself smile that smile that always accompanies a laugh.

"Lizzy, let's play a game!" Feliciano kept laughing and ran off. "Catch me!" Elizaveta just shook her head and snorted, running after the child.

And Roderich sat there and watched his maid chase his servant boy before a backdrop of sunset, everything disgustingly picturesque.

It was almost funny how attractive Elizaveta managed to look when she wasn't trying to murder anyone.

The boy was worn out by the time the sky grew dark, and Elizaveta walked over to the picnic with Feliciano in arms, asleep. "You're still here?" she whispered.

Roderich nodded. "I had nothing to do, so I stayed to watch you two."

"You should've played with us. It was surprisingly fun."

"Perhaps next time."

She laughed. "Perhaps."

Elizaveta reached for the basket, but he grabbed it first. "Allow me."

"Sure. Have fun with that."

"I plan on it."

They walked in silence for a few minutes, the only real sound being Feliciano's soft breathing. "Elizaveta…" Roderich said eventually.

"Yeah?"

"I did not expect you to be so…caring. With Feliciano, I mean."

"I'm not completely heartless, you know. I can find it in me to care at times."

"Only for the boy?"

"What, you jealous, Roddykins?"

"Don't call me that."

"Answer the question, _Roddykins_." She grinned mischievously.

"No. I don't give a damn, actually."

Elizaveta was speechless. "Language, Roddykins."

"Stop calling me that."

"I prefer not to."

"You have to obey me. I'm your master, you know."

"Has that ever stopped me?"

"Sadly, it has not."

"Hey, just be glad I don't hate you."

"So that's what you were trying to tell me earlier."

"You…heard that?"

"Yes. How could I not?"  
She was blushing, the heat stinging her cheeks. "I…don't know."

"I…would just like you to know that I do not hate you either."

She forced herself to smile amidst her nerves. "That's a start."

"To what?"

"To…anything."

They smiled awkwardly at each other before Elizaveta decided to look away and subsequently retreat to the servant's rooms with Feliciano.

"Lizzy?" the half-asleep child murmured.

"Yeah?"

"Do you love Mr. Austria?"

That child never seemed to learn.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **As always, thanks for the lovely reviews, faves, alerts 'n stuff! They make me feel awesome ^^

Aaaaand here's chapter 5! ...I really have nothing else to say other than that I want an Italy -shot-

Don't own Hetalia {O RLY? U DIDN'T KNO THAT OMG -lapses into Poland mode- .}

Reviews are awesomer than Prussia {and he is very, very awesome}.

Okay, okay. I shuts up nao.

* * *

Today was already looking up.

Feliciano had stopped ignoring her, although Elizaveta had to admit she deserved it for nearly bashing his face in with her frying pan when he insinuated that she was in love with Roderich. Her master, however, would probably forgive much less quickly.

She sighed. Until he stopped the silent treatment, there would be no late-night philosophical discussions by the fireplace in the "parlor", as Roddykins insisted on calling it. Elizaveta, in turn, insisted on calling him Roddykins.

"Ugh…it's so damn _quiet_!" she half-spoke, half-yelled, flinging the rag she was cleaning with onto the floor. From somewhere in the house, she could hear Roderich's piano experimentation. _He's writing more of my song,_ she thought, although this segment would likely be entitled something derogatory, not that he was really one for insults.

"Lizzy!" Feliciano tackle/hugged her from behind, causing the startled girl to nearly lose her balance. "Guess what?"

"You know I suck at guessing, Feli. What is it?"

"Guess~!"

"Fine. Um…Gilbert finally died?"

"Noooo! Guess again!"

"Shit, Feli! I have no idea."

"Guess~!" he repeated, giggling.

"Francis took an oath of celibacy?"

"No!"

"Holy Roman Empire came back?"

This silenced him. "No…"

"Look, Feli, I don't know. Sorry 'bout mentioning him."

"It's okay, Lizzy. I just miss him very much."

"'Cause you love him, right?"

"Uh-huh. When you love someone, you never want to be without them, so it hurts even when they're ignoring you. It's always worse when you know they're never coming back."

Ignoring. Elizaveta could relate to that. "Damn, Feli. How do you know so much about love?"

"It's okay, Lizzy. You just haven't fallen in love yet~!"

"I'm not planning on it."

"No one ever does. It just…happens."

"Feli, please. Just tell me what you were going to tell me."

He looked confused for a moment, then broke out into his classic grin. "Oh yeah! Francis is having a dance at his house tonight and all the countries are invited~!"

"_TONIGHT?_ What the hell? Why are you telling me _now_?"

"S-sorry, Lizzy! Mr. Austria just told _me_ and he's been trying not to speak to you–"

"Trying?"

"Yeah. He really wants to, but he knows he's supposed to discipline you."

"Screw that. When's he leaving for that party?"

"Now. That's why I-"

She didn't give him time to finish as she dashed off to the front of the house. Sure enough, Roderich was just getting into the carriage when she burst out of the door. As he turned to look at her, she saw something akin to fear, regret, distaste, fondness…Elizaveta saw something, but she wasn't precisely sure of its name.

"I'm coming with you," she said, climbing in behind him. He didn't acknowledge her, but sat down and stared out the window as they left the property.

"You were to stay and look after Feli," he said at length. "I did not tell you because you are so obstinate that you surely would have refused."

"I thought you were ignoring me because you were angry."

"That also."

"If you'd told me, then yeah, I may have fought, but I wouldn't have been wracking my brain every night wondering how long you were gonna stay locked in with that piano."

"You lost sleep over this?" He sounded concerned.

"Yeah."

"I-I am very sorry, Elizaveta. I did not mean to-"

"I'm fine, Roddykins," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Excellent. If you would like, I can promise not to lie to you in the future."

She laughed at his stiffness, which made him flinch and blush slightly. "Okay. You got any paper? I'm gonna write it down so you don't forget."

He said nothing, but drew a blank piece of sheet music out of his pocket, as well as a writing utensil. In handwriting made shaky by the unpaved road, Elizaveta wrote:

_Roderich __Edelstein__ promises never to lie to Elizaveta H__é__dev__á__ry. He will always be completely honest with her. Breaking this promise will cause demonic butterflies to invade Earth and eat his brains._

She handed the paper back to him, as well as the writing instrument. He read it with no real expression. "What should I do?" he asked.

"You should promise never to break your promises."

"Fine," he smiled. "But what about you?"

She merely grinned and snatched the items back. In smaller writing, she squeezed more words above the first promise:

_The Promises of Elizaveta H__é__dev__á__ry and Roderich __Edelstein__:_

_ Elizaveta H__é__dev__á__ry promises never to break any of these promises._

_ Roderich __Edelstein__ promises never to break any of these promises._

"There." She gave him his things back. "Keep my paper safe for me, and give it back after the party."

He solemnly folded the paper and put it in his pocket, along with the writing utensil. "So there are going to be more?"

"Why not?"

"Just…do not make too many, or it will be too hard to remember."

"Sure. But you'll catch on soon enough, Roddykins."

"I never thought that I would miss hearing that absurd name."

Well, _that_ was unexpected.

"And I am sincerely glad that I brought you along, Elizaveta."

"Glad I could be of assistance."

"You generally are."

"That's my job," she said lightly. "Can't let Roddykins down."  
"Perhaps you should-"

"Oh my God, Roddykins! Look!" Elizaveta squealed and pointed out the window at the inordinately ornate mansion they were pulling up to. "Francis' house is so damn _fancy_!"

"Language." His soft voice startled her, so close to her ear since he was staring out the same window. She had been able to feel him speak. If that was awkward…then she was screwed. This was a _party._ At _Francis'_. Oh, God…

Roderich, gentleman that he was, helped her out of the carriage. "Didn't need your help, idiot," she muttered, hoping no one had seen. Well, they had arrived rather early, and it didn't look like anyone was around.

"I know. I risked my life being chivalrous to you."

"Don't worry, Roddykins. I left my frying pan at home."

"Ah. I feel much better now," he said dryly.

"Lizzy?" A girl with short blonde hair in a pink dress dashed over to the two and hugged Elizaveta tightly.

"Hi, Lilli," Elizaveta said, feigning happiness at being asphyxiated.

"Is Vash here?" Roderich asked Lilli, suddenly all business.

"Yeah! He's guarding the girls from Francis." Finally, the girl let go and started dragging Elizaveta inside. "I've been visiting with Katyusha and Natalia, Ivan's sisters. They're very nice, but their brother scares me."

"Ivan's a psycho, but you should be fine if you stay away."

"That's what Vash told me, but he said I can use my gun if I need to," the younger girl said brightly.

Why, oh why, was that Swiss freak teaching poor, innocent Lilli his trigger-happy ways?

Lilli led Elizaveta to the second floor, then to a door guarded by Vash, Lilli's self-appointed brother. He said nothing, but merely moved aside so the girls could enter. Inside the room were two girls with light blonde hair, and…Feliks. Of course. He practically _was_ a girl anyway.

"Hello, Elizaveta," the older girl, Katyusha, said.

"Um…hi, guys," Elizaveta said.

"Lizzy, are you, like, _seriously_ wearing that?" Feliks asked suddenly.

"Yeah…"

"Girl, like, you can't go to a party wearin', like, _that_. Not cool!"

"Well, what else _can_ I wear?" Elizaveta cared more about shutting Feliks up than wearing her maid clothes to the party.

"Don't worry, girl. I've, like, totally got this." He walked over the giant, sparkly, pink box in the corner. "I've got, like, tons of cute clothes!"

"Does he carry that everywhere?" Elizaveta whispered to the others.

No one answered.

"OMG! I, like, totally think this'll fit. This is gonna look, like, _so_ totally fabulous on you!" He shoved a bundle of fabric into her hands. "Like, go change! I totally wanna see how this, like, looks on you!"

She sighed and went into a closet, managing to put on the other outfit without being able to see. Reluctantly, she came back out, not really wanting to put up with Feliks' squealing and…well, Feliks was the only annoying one.

And, sure enough, the Pole in question starting squealing while saying something in chatspeak, even though it had not been invented yet. The other girls were just staring.

"What, is something wrong with me?"

"N-nothing," Lilli said. "You look pretty nice, actually."  
She saw herself in a mirror and wasn't sure whether to be ecstatic or frightened. The dress was a pale mint green, not the most gorgeous color on her, but not the worst either. Cream-colored lace edged the ends of the sleeves, the bottom of the dress, and the scandalously low scoop of the neckline. _I'm dead_, she thought. _Francis isn't gonna leave me alone in this dress._

"Um…thanks, Feliks…"  
"Like, no prob! I, like, totally love helping people look fabulous!"

"Stay away from Brother," Natalia hissed in her ear before slinking off somewhere. Great. Now she would have a perv _and_ a psycho to avoid during the party. Maybe she _should've_ stayed home with Feli…

No. It had been too long since she'd been out, and Elizaveta Hédeváry wanted to taste freedom again. She wanted, oh damn, she wanted…anything. She wanted to live, to experience the world while it was young and crazy in the young and crazy hours of the day. It couldn't be too much to ask, could it? Suddenly, her risqué dress was more comfortable, despite its tightness and the cold air against her chest. It wasn't that bad…no, it would do, it would do quite well.

"Lizzy?" Katyusha said quietly, placing her hands on Elizaveta's shoulders. "What are you thinking of?"

"Life."

"You are so philosophical, and yet you are such a fighter."

"What would you do without me to keep Gilbert in check?"

The other girl merely laughed. "You are very beautiful, Lizzy. I know you do not care, but just remember a friend's words: you deserve someone who will set your heart free, though you be in a prison."

"Why does everyone keep giving me this crap about love?"

"Because you are so independent that if you did fall in love, you would never admit it."

"You're pretty damn philosophical too, Kat," Elizaveta laughed.

*

"Raivis! If you so much as _look_ at any alcoholic beverage again, I am going to _murder_ you."

_Yes, Toris, that's very smart. Threaten to murder your already-traumatized brother_, Elizaveta thought, taking a long sip of her own drink.

"Please, Elizaveta, help me here," Toris said, looking at her in desperation.

"Yeah, Raivis, you're too young to get totally wasted," she said.

"Am not," the youngest Baltic said without emotion, reaching for an abandoned shot of whiskey.

"Raivis…" Eduard put in, grabbing his brother's arm. Raivis merely flailed his hand in attempt to get the drink. "It's not even yours."  
"…So?"

"So don't touch it!" Toris finished.

"Let the kid have a drink," an obnoxious voice said, approaching the four.

"Gilbert, you creeper!" Elizaveta turned to glare at her albino nemesis.

"What? I didn't do anything!" His sly smirk, however, implied the _"yet"_.

"I doubt it."

"Aw, Lizzy, why don't you trust me?"

"I wonder why."

"Me too." He grinned cockily.

"God, go be annoying with Francis or your other stupid friends."

"There's only three of us, Lizzy. No need for the plural."

"Oh, right. I forgot how much of a loser you are."

"Hey, Francis and Antonio are the only ones I allow to associate with my awesome. I could have _tons _of friends, if there was anyone awesome enough. You and that Austrian pansy obviously aren't."  
"Fuck off."

"Jealous?"

"Roderich isn't a pansy. _You're_ the one who's always scared of getting his ass kicked by me."

"Am not!"  
"Prove it," she said, smirking as she aimed a kick at his vital regions. Gilbert yelped in a girlish way {although he always claimed it was Elizaveta who yelped} as he dodged the attack.

"Like hell I will!" he replied, grinning in that wolfish, demonic way, like he always did during battles.

Elizaveta found it more comical than anything else.

He was still wearing that stupid expression as he reached for a decorative candlestick. Sadly for him, Elizaveta grabbed it first. Now it was her turn for that feral smile. Opinions are varied on whether or not the personification of Prussia really _was_ absolutely terrified at the sight of a weapon in Elizaveta's hands, but the Baltic nations, the closest witnesses, claimed that he very well was {they didn't blame him}.

Upon noticing that he was paralyzed in fear {or merely striking an "awesome" pose}, Elizaveta laughed and kneed him in the vital regions, walking away amused as he clutched said regions and groaned. The fact that Francis was laughing while he helped Gilbert up didn't make the albino feel any better.

"What's so damn funny?" Gilbert snapped.

"You, _mon ami_." Francis grinned. "You and Elizaveta."

"What the hell, Francis?"

"You know she turns you on."

"Hell no!" The quickness of the reply was a sure sign that the conversation was an oft-repeated one.

"If you say so." He cast a glance at Elizaveta, who had made her way to the drink table. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll take that 'psycho bitch' off your hands."

Gilbert watched, shocked and disturbed, as his friend approached his frienemy.

"_Bonjour,"_ Francis whispered in Elizaveta's ear, causing her flail in shock and spill her drink.

"Shit…" she muttered, hoping to deter him with her diligent cleansing of the tablecloth.

"You do not need to do that," he interrupted. "This is a party, _non_? So enjoy yourself." He gave her a suggestive wink as he slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"As a matter of fact, I quite _enjoy_ cleaning this table. So fuck off."

"Why, I would be delighted to!"

Curse Gilbert. Curse Gilbert and his perverted friends.

"Fine. Go die in a hole, then."

He looked mock-hurt. "Elizaveta, you do injure me so."

"Good."  
His grip tightened and his face drew closer, to the point where his breath was warm and gross against her cheek. "Difficult, aren't we, Miss Hédeváry."

"Like hell," she hissed.

"You know," he mused, "I _do_ like them feisty." Before Elizaveta even had time to think of a reply, Francis had literally dragged her onto the dance floor. Although her {lengthy} string of expletives, accompanied by violent struggling, was a noble effort, Francis was frighteningly leech-like when he had his eye on something, or, more accurately, some_one_.

She intended to do something drastic {up to and including murder}, but the music started and she felt Francis' death grip tighten on her waist {too close to her butt} and his other hand seize hers. He gave her a pointed glare and she reluctantly put her hand on his shoulder. His expression relaxed into a smug, gloating, lustful one. Without further ado, the dancing began. Francis had pulled her in so tightly that she didn't think they could get any closer unless he were to invade her vital regions then and there. Besides this, she was now sure that he was groping her with that annoying hand that was supposed to be on her waist. Lovely. She was wearing an absurdly low-cut dress and being molested by the king of perverts _in public_. Battle tactics were quickly being formed in her war-conditioned brain, until all thoughts were replaced with panic. The bastard's cock was grinding against her thigh. _How_ in hell could she even feel that?

"Holy shit!" Elizaveta yelled, yanking away more forcefully than she'd ever yanked before.

"Um…Francis?"  
Elizaveta could've sworn she was imagining the voice as Francis approached her again.

"_Oui?_" Francis turned to face a coolly irate Roderich.

"May I…cut in?" He extended a hand to Elizaveta, who took it with what was probably too much enthusiasm.

"Hell yeah!"

"Language, Elizaveta," he said, more solemnly than usual.

And then his arm was around her {nowhere close to her ass} and he was gracefully moving the two of them away from nobody's favorite pervert.

"Roderich…" she said, trying to find the words to express both her gratitude and disappointment at not getting to castrate Francis.

"Sshh…just dance, Elizaveta."  
"I was gonna thank you."  
"I know."

It felt like they were a million miles away from each other and that was almost as awkward as her dance with Francis. Maybe it would help if she just moved a little closer, put her head against his shoulder…

She felt him flinch momentarily before his grip on her waist adjusted to hold her in this new position. She didn't mind how close they were. Roderich wouldn't do anything to her. Gilbert was wrong, as usual. This was no pansy that was holding her. This warm body, the thin, firm shoulder under her grip, the liquid chocolate eyes that were almost constantly stern, the tousled-yet-inexplicably-elegant hair, this beautiful non-warlike man was no pansy. This man who gently moved with her in small circle on the dance floor was so much braver than that albino bastard.

He never spoke of their dance, though. He said it was "improper" for a master to be so forward with a servant. Elizaveta would give him a death glare and storm away. She had seen the smile on his lips during that dance. He had enjoyed it even more than her.

And he refused to admit it, even though they both knew.

Damn, he could be _such_ a pansy sometimes.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **GAHHHHHHHH -shot- I know I said I'd update every other week, but this chapter seriously didn't want to be written T.T But it's finished now, so huzzah. I don't really think it's that good - I had a hell of a time with this thing, especially on the end part.

But I digress. This is the angsty-est chapter yet, mkay? And it's definitely not the last angsty chapter -beams- MUAHAHAHA SPOILERZ :0

Ahem.

Disclaimer - I disclaim. =P

* * *

Truthfully, Elizaveta couldn't get the dance out of her head. She knew Roderich knew that she could take care of herself, so why did he even save her from Francis? She was probably reading too far into this, since it was probably just his gentlemanly side that forced him to do it. It was the side of him that was actually human that enjoyed it.

But she still waltzed around empty rooms with her frying pan when she was supposed to be cleaning. Of course, she always danced the guy's part. So what if she hadn't developed certain parts of the male anatomy? Gilbert could just go die.

How in hell, she wondered, had one dance caused her to act like a lovesick schoolgirl, when she was neither lovesick nor a schoolgirl? She just wanted to dance, so long as it was Roderich she was dancing with. And that was because he wasn't going to molest her. Obviously. That was her reason. Nothing else.

She looked out the window at the snowy, mid-December weather. Sighing, she grabbed her bucket of dirty water. Great. She actually had to go _outside_ to dump this out.

Still grumbling to herself, she pushed open the kitchen door and walked a few steps out into the courtyard. The overcast sky was still pouring forth snow. She gave an involuntary shiver as she deposited the water onto one of the lifeless flowerbeds.

"Why, look what we 'ave 'ere, John!"

Elizaveta rolled her eyes. The two guards John and Edward had been stalking her for the past few weeks. They constantly made suggestive remarks to her and got near-fatal injuries in return. Edward, the one who'd approached her, had a bandage over half his face. His partner, John, was still limping.

"Ah 'ope she's not so feisty today," John said.

Why was her "feistiness" so attractive to random perverts?

"Lookie 'ere! She don't 'ave 'er pan!"  
"My, my, Lizzy, ya shouldn't walk about unarmed. Mas'er wouldn't like it." John clucked his tongue in a scolding manner.

"Don't bring Roderich into this!" she snapped.

"Ooh, the missie's gettin' defensive," Edward smirked.

"But 'e's so _boring_, Lizzy. 'ave some fun with us now."

Wow. Talk about crappy pick-up lines.

Then John's – or was it Edward's – sweaty hands were up her skirt and the other guy had a firm grip on her shoulders from behind. Her brain went into "Oh shit!" mode almost instantly.

"'old 'er fer a minnit, John." Okay, so the one that had been feeling her up was Edward, who was currently yanking his pants down, a feral grin on his face. Elizaveta, enterprising girl that she was, took the opportunity to twist her arms enough to smack John on the cheek and break free. Without a second's hesitation, Elizaveta ran for the door to the house. She had a bit of a head start, since the guards were slightly startled. Once inside, she didn't stop. She needed to find A) her frying pan and/or B) other people. She couldn't fend off the guards forever. Eventually, they'd catch her and make sure she couldn't run unless she immobilized them first. She also knew, from weeks of experience, that they wouldn't strike around other people.

She managed to locate her frying pan, but no other people. So she ran to the one place where she figured there would certainly be someone: the piano room. But, of course, it was empty. She was tired of running, and, frankly, scared out of her mind. It was pathetic. She, Elizaveta Hédeváry, the nation of Hungary, who could face and demolish armies fearlessly, who had been a boy during childhood, was terrified of two uneducated, _mortal_ rapists.

She was better than this. Better than the tears that were – oh, God, she was crying. This was preposterous! Elizaveta Hédeváry didn't cry! At least Roderich wasn't-

"Elizaveta?"  
Shit.

"Elizaveta? What is wrong?" His voice was suddenly closer, and then she saw why. Roderich was kneeling beside her while she was lying sprawled on the floor. _He can't see me like __**this**__, _she thought, turning her head away.

That only made him put a hand on her shoulder. "Elizaveta, look at me!"

"No," she whispered.

"Damn it, Lizzy, don't fight me _now_! I'm trying to help you!"

She was only aware of three things:  
- He had actually used the word "damn"

- He had called her "Lizzy"

- He had taken her into his arms and was now holding her awkwardly against his chest.

Her arms slid out from where they were crushed against him and clasped limply behind his back. And then Elizaveta cried. All he could think to do was keep his arms around her and try to think of her tears instead of how they upset him.

They stayed that way until Elizaveta stopped crying. She then looked up at him, green eyes rimmed with red.

"Elizaveta-" he began, but she shoved him away and ran out of the room.

Roderich was left in the middle of the room that contained his beloved piano with a slightly damp shirt, Elizaveta's frying pan, and the memory of a very improper feeling. Why, oh why, did she do this to him?

Of course it was her fault. He would deal with that later. Right now, he had to get to the bottom of this.

*

First of all, Elizaveta was _not_ crying. She had not run away, and she definitely had not been glad that Roderich had been holding her like that. She obviously hadn't been thinking clearly – nearly getting raped did that to the brain, right?

And she was not curled up on her pathetic excuse for a bed, sulking and in total denial. She wasn't _curled up_, she was _hugging herself for extra warmth_. And sulking – no, she was experiencing slight mental trauma. Oh, and she definitely wasn't in denial. She was only preventing herself from over-exaggerating.

Somebody knocked on the door, a fact that she ignored for a few seconds. It was probably Feliciano, anyway. No matter how much she loved the kid, he could wait until her face was less red.

"Come in, Feli," she said at last, giving her reflection in the mirror one last glare. Hopefully the boy wouldn't notice, since he'd probably have a heart attack if he thought she were in danger.

And then Roderich opened the door and _Elizaveta _nearly had the heart attack.

"Damn," she muttered, looking at the oh-so-interesting floor.

"Language-"

"-Elizaveta, I know." She rolled her eyes as she finished his sentence.

"Are you planning on answering my question now?"

"Which one? You ask too damn many."

"Are you alright?" Elizaveta watched him with dull eyes as he walked over and gingerly sat on the edge of her bed, almost as if the zombie armies were going to come and murder him with poisoned chainsaws, even if chainsaws still needed to be invented.

"Well, let's see. I'm lying in the middle of a room crying my eyes out, actually touching you willingly for once, and running away like a freak. So, yeah, I think I'm perfectly fine."

He said something that sounded suspiciously like, "I know you are," as he awkwardly put an arm around her shoulder (although he had to risk his life to the zombies to do so).

There was only one thing Elizaveta could think about when there was a guy sitting on her bed and _touching_ her, and this thought was what caused her to shove him away and glare at him murderously.

"Elizaveta? What is the meaning of this?"

He looked shocked. Genuinely shocked. "It's nothing," she muttered.

"Are you certain?"

She nodded and pulled a blanket around her shoulders. "I'm fine."

Roderich still didn't look convinced and scooted closer to her. He pressed a hand to her forehead, and she forced herself not to act like Raivis. _What, does he think I'm sick or something? _she thought, amusing herself in a slightly cynical style.

"You seem fine," he concluded, giving her a concerned stare. "Please, just tell me what is wrong. I promise you I'll do everything in my power to fix this."

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

He raised an eyebrow. "You don't seem fine."

"Okay, so maybe I'm not feeling like rainbows and butterflies right now, but I don't need help. I'll be better soon."

"Let me help, Elizaveta, please. I hate seeing you like this."

"Why? Because your stupid house isn't getting cleaned?"  
She could actually see the disappointment on his face. "Elizaveta…" That was all he said as he took her into his arms again. His fingers were tangling in her hair and for a second it felt so damn _good_…

And then her mind snapped back into reality. She had nearly been _raped_ earlier, and this was the second time in less than thirty minutes that Roderich had held her like this. No. Surely he couldn't be just like those idiots!

But why take any chances?

Elizaveta shoved him away again, more violently this time. He landed sprawled across her bed, glasses askew. She stood up rapidly, clutching the ratty blanket to her chest as she stood by the door, prepared to bolt if he made another move on her.

In true Roderich fashion, he sat up slowly and fixed his glasses before speaking calmly, although his voice had taken on a foreign, cold undertone. "I would suggest you explain yourself."

She shook her head violently, making her look like she was having convulsions.

"Why not? Is there something that you're not _allowed _to tell me?"

"Hell no," she said, her voice barely audible.

"Excellent. Because if you were plotting anything against me, I am more than capable of dealing with you."

That sounded horribly like Edward and John… and, besides, she highly doubted that Roderich knew anything about "dealing" with anything other than an out-of-tune piano.

"I'm terrified," she said, recovering a bit more composure after deciding that he was utterly incapable with anything but music… although he was pretty damn good at his stupid music.

"Elizaveta, I am not joking with you."

"I know."

"You do not seem to be taking me seriously."

"I'm not."

"If I am not joking, then why do you not take me seriously?" The exasperation on his face was tangible. His hands were clenched into fists and his normally calm demeanor was obviously cracking – and cracking quickly.

"You can't do anything to me." Her voice wasn't nearly so loud this time, since she was on edge from the day's events and Roderich was slowly standing up. Normally the process of standing didn't freak her out, but the fact that this normally distant, calm man was standing in an epic way and looking slightly pissed was enough to drive her jumpy nerves insane.

Perhaps it was the look of pure, uncensored terror in her eyes that made him stop short, although it was probably only his gentlemanly good manners making him rethink things.

"Why would I ever do anything to you?" he asked, approaching her slowly.

She didn't answer, of course, just looked away. It didn't cross her mind that the constant denial was probably making him suspicious – and, judging by the look on his face – and pissed.

He put his hands on her shoulders, and she flinched. "Elizaveta…please, look at me." He sounded firmer, more insistent, and definitely exasperated.

Of course, she didn't look.

"Look at me!" His hand cupped her chin and jerked her gaze onto him with more force than he intended. The shock and panic flashing across her face was evident. Almost as evident was the horror on Roderich's face due to his own actions as Elizaveta wriggled out of his grasp and took on a fighting stance.

"What're you trying to do?" she cried, giving him a mixture of a pained and fierce expression.

"I am trying to help you, damn it!"

"Language," she said flatly.

"What are _you_ trying to do, Elizaveta? Are you plotting against me? Why can you not tell me?"

"I don't have to tell you if I damn well don't want to!"

"I am your master, Elizaveta! You _do_ have to obey me, you know."

"When did that stop me?"

He was silent, contemplating the girl's seething form. "I have been far too lenient. I really must stop spoiling you."

"Spoiling me? When the hell were you spoiling me?" She gestured angrily to her shabby room. "You call this spoiling? And look at Feli! The only nice thing you did for him was to give him a day off to mend his broken heart! Other than that, he has to deal with shit that kids shouldn't be!"

"What does Feliciano have to do with this?"

"You say you spoil me, but you're just a damned cruel bastard. You're such a fucking hypocrite! All you talk about is being a gentleman and proper, but you treat me and Feli and the other servants like shit! Like total shit! You think that's how a gentleman acts?"

"And you're just a foul-mouthed peasant that is not worthy to be called a country!" The words were out before he really knew what he was saying.

Elizaveta looked at him first in shock, then in an anger only seen when she faced Prussia on the battlefield. "Shut up! Just get your ass out of here! I don't want to talk to a bastard like you! _You're _the only one unworthy of being a country, you damned pansy!"

Under normal circumstances, Roderich would never have obeyed her demands, but she looked positively murderous and he didn't want to listen to her foul mouth any longer than necessary. And, besides, he was horribly ashamed at what he had said.

In true Roderich style, he regained some sort of composure in order to reply. "Well, fortunately for you, I am going on a trip and will not be returning until Christmas Eve." His words needed some form of proper, eloquent ending, but he just couldn't think of one, so he let them hang in the air. He turned briskly and walked the few paces to the exit.

Then, he remembered what he was going to say. He didn't turn around but simply spoke and hoped that Elizaveta would hear him. "Oh, please watch your language, Miss… Hungary."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** OMGWTF IS THAT A NEW CHAPTER?

Well, it's taken a couple months of me procrastinating, but I've finally got a new chapter for you guys. And, no, I don't plan on all the updates being this slow ^^;

SO. to make up for all of that, I present FLUFF! Delicious, cavity-inducing fluff! Whee~

aaaaand it's Christmas in June, apparently. xD Would've been funnier if it was July, but then we would've had to wait another month and that's NOT COOl.

Don't own kthx, nao onto the fic~

* * *

Judging by the fact that Elizaveta was taking advice from a child, she could safely say that she failed in all matters of romance – not that she was in love or anything!

Fine. Maybe she was. Feliciano had practically tortured her (by overfeeding her) until she admitted it.

Well, huzzah. She was in love. That definitely posed two problems:  
1. She had no idea how to go about admitting this to the object of her affections, or if she even wanted to.

2. Said object of her affections had been pissed off with her the last time they had spoken.

Feliciano was undoubtedly better at comforting than Roderich was, and, after much pasta, he had eventually managed to get the whole story out of her, including the argument. The embodiment of Italy had bugged her until she finally admitted – to herself and her best friend – that she was in love with the jerk. Of course, she had still been quite angry, and it wasn't until later that she had come up with The Plan.

On December 24, Elizaveta got up early, which she hadn't done since Roderich had left. All the servants took their master's absence as an excuse to slack off and play cards. As a result, Elizaveta was getting rather good at it, seeing as she was the only one who remained sober enough to think straight.

The only reason she had bothered to get up was because of her Italian friend's Plan. Shockingly, it didn't involve pasta… as far as she knew. Throughout the entire day, the boy didn't speak of his favorite food as often as usual. Instead, he helped her decorate the entire freaking house in a relatively festive fashion. Right now, an elaborate dinner was cooking in the kitchen, with Italy watching it while Elizaveta sat in the front room, alternating between staring and the clock and out the window at the dark, snowy yard. She had no idea when Roderich would be home, but hopefully it was soon…

She woke up firstly to the smell of smoke, secondly to the warmth of a tiny Italian in her arms, and thirdly to… well, she didn't precisely _wake up_ to it, but the second she opened her eyes, Elizaveta saw Roderich staring at her in what was most likely confusion.

"May I ask what is going on?" he said finally, after their staring contest had grown awkward.

"Oh shit!" It seemed that words were all that were needed to get her to move once again. She sat up suddenly, displacing Feliciano and therefore waking him up.

"Elizaveta, please watch your language _and_ explain to me what is going on. Surely that is not too much for you to handle."

She fixed him with a cold stare. "Your kitchen's burning down and you're freaking out about my _language_?"

"Yes."

Rolling her eyes, Elizaveta turned to Feliciano. "Feli, can you go make sure the pasta hasn't burned?"

The boy gasped in horror. "Ve~ the pasta!" was all he said before dashing off to go rescue his pasta (and, indirectly, many other, more important things).

Roderich stared after Feli for a moment, failing at hiding his bewilderment. "Alright, now that Feli is occupied, _what is going on_?"

She sighed. Why did her best ideas always seem to fall apart so grandly in the execution? "Well, I decided that I didn't hate you as much as I had first believed, and so Feli suggested that I make dinner."

"But you already do that every day."

"Oh, well, um, not like _normal_ dinner. A special one, since I don't hate you."

"I… see." He was no longer looking out the door, but not at her either.

"Damn," she said under her breath. "I knew it was a stupid idea."

He still refused to look at her, but looking much more shyly adorable than usual. _Oh God, now he's adorable_. _What is _wrong _with me?_ Amid her thoughts, Elizaveta heard him say something, if the odd combination of mumbling and total lack of volume could even be called speaking.

"Hm?" she said, just in case she missed something.

His blush became even more electric. "It was not a _stupid_ idea, as you so crudely put it."

"I am quite _crude_, aren't I, Roddy?" Why did he feel the incessant need to insult her _and _compliment her within the same sentence?

"Why can't you pay attention to the _compliment_ instead?"

"Oh, maybe because you insulted me as well."

It may have been imagination, but Elizaveta could've sworn that she heard him mutter, "God _damn _my pride!"

"Look, Elizaveta," was what he said for sure, "I do apologize if I come off as snappish, but I've returned from a stressful journey to find my house in danger of being burned to the ground. Please try to at least understand a fraction of my frustration. And… well, I've been unable to stop thinking of you. It's a bit unnerving, really."

The second-to-last sentence was quieter, forced out between pride and awkwardness. And he couldn't stop thinking of her.

"You just couldn't stop thinking of that foul-mouthed peasant, huh?" she said, purposely letting the bitterness flood her voice.

"No. I couldn't stop thinking of Elizaveta Hédeváry and all those idiotic, untrue things I said to her."

She looked at him skeptically, hoping that he meant what he said, but, then again, this was _Roderich_ and she knew he was practically incapable of malice. Of course, she had forgiven him much earlier, but when it came down to it the situation at least deserved some last-minute doubt.

"And I couldn't stop thinking of you and how unfair I'd been."

Their eyes met for a moment before they looked away and Elizaveta gave an awkward laugh.

"I do wish you would tell me what happened, though," Roderich said. "Your violent reaction concerned me greatly. I… don't want you to be hurt. I swear, I will do anything, within my power or outside of it, to remedy the situation."

It was sweet, Elizaveta decided, the awkward and wordy way he expressed his feelings, and he really did deserve to know. "Well, let's just say I was nearly raped by two of your idiot guards."

Roderich's expression went from stunned to horrified to outraged in a manner of seconds. "W-who were they?" he managed to choke out amid his turbid emotions.

"John and Edward. The bastards can't even speak correctly."  
"Elizaveta…" His hand rested on her knee as he sat down beside her. "You should have told me. Oh God, I can't believe… what I _said_… can you even forgive me? I… I don't even have the words to express how _terrible_ I feel… how I treated you…"

He looked as if he were about to suffer a mental breakdown, so Elizaveta placed her hand on top of his and offered him a small smile. "I almost burned down your house for a _reason_, Roddykins. I felt awful, too. I overreacted and-"

"No, you most certainly _did not_ overreact. Your actions were completely justified."

She laughed, gripping his hand tighter. "Let's just say we both messed up badly, and we need to work on our communication skills."  
"Alright. That should work." And in the almost-companionable silence that followed, Elizaveta finally noticed that they were practically holding hands, and her cheeks finally started to heat up.

"Ve~ Lizzy!" Feli came barreling into the room at the perfect moment, almost as if his entrance had been planned. "I saved the pasta!"

Elizaveta smiled and hastily removed her hand from Roderich's and hoped the boy, with his Italian love instincts, had not seen. "Good job, Feli!" She turned to Roderich. "I hope you won't mind eating pasta. It doesn't seem like we have anything else…"

"Pasta sounds wonderful." He stood up and offered his hand to Elizaveta, who took it, not bothering to suppress her blush. The three walked into the kitchen, led by Feli, the two older countries sitting down at the tiny table shoved into a corner for the servants to eat at. The little Italian hummed a cheerfully obnoxious tune as he put ladleful after ladleful of pasta onto two plates and set them in front of the two. He smiled a not-so-innocently smile at Elizaveta before skipping off to another part of the kitchen.

After everything that had happened, for some reason it was unbearably awkward to talk, and that left picking at their pasta as the only other option. In all honesty, it was excellent pasta, but it just was as _excellent_ as Roderich was looking right at that moment, and oh _God_ she did not just think that.

The part of her brain that was actually concerned with how the food tasted made her hand reach for the salt that Feli must have set out earlier. However, the rest of her brain, the part that was trying to deny her attraction to the man across from her, made said hand tremble and the laws of physics did the rest. The container fell over, spewing salt across the table.

"Sorry!" Elizaveta said instantaneously, not looking at him due to embarrassment. She reached to grab the overturned container, and, of course, her hand accidentally brushed Roderich's. It only lasted a second before she started blushing again (what the hell was wrong with her?) and laughing awkwardly.

"I'll… have Feli clean it up," he said, although it was much too stiff to even be considered part of even a one-sided conversation.

"Guess that means I don't have to do it." Really, Elizaveta only added that sentence in order to make the situation feel more like normal dialogue.

"I suppose it does not…"

Since there was not much else to say, they were forced to go back to eating pasta, with things still quite awkward. The tense silence prevailed, since after the conversation in the other room had been cut off, neither really knew what to discuss.

Elizaveta was busy enjoying the taste of the tomato-flavored pasta sauce when she heard the scrape of a chair against the floor. She looked up and she barely registered Roderich's chair empty and the man himself beside her dabbing at a spot of sauce right next to her lips with a cloth.

She tried valiantly not to pay attention to the gentle electricity of his fingers through the cloth or wonder about _what_ he'd been staring at to have noticed the tiny spot. And then she gave up and admitted to herself that she loved it.

To soon, he was merely standing beside her awkwardly, hands clasped around the cloth with his gaze trained on it.

"Um… Roddy, why are you still standing there?" she asked, suspicious of something – she didn't know what, but his behavior was abnormal.

"Because I… want to?" he ventured, a sad attempt at humor, given the fact that it came out as more of a question.

"Oh. Okay."

"Um… so…" It sounded like he was trying to say something, the way he couldn't manage to complete his sentence.

"Yes?"

"Um…"

"What?" She tried not to sound annoyed, but the fact that Roderich was over here blushing and acting like a 13 year-old girl wasn't helping.

"Well… Elizaveta, I must say that over the years I've known you – it's been a rather long time, has it not – I believe my feeling have evolved quite a bit… that is, I believe that I find you much more agreeable than I had originally planned to – no, that's not it at all, it's more like… I find that I enjoy your company quite a bit, um… yes, I do believe that, even though my feelings are a bit of an impropriety, I now understand that they are much stronger than I had ever imagined."

Elizaveta knew that there was a declaration of _something_ within that tangle of words, and she knew that it was special enough because Roderich was blushing and straightening his clothes and fidgeting and generally looking like the nervous wreck he was.

"Roderich… could you please repeat that?" she asked, hoping not to offend him in her need for a translation.

"Well… Elizaveta, I must say-"

"Um… I meant, normal-person language, please."

He let out a sigh, and whether it was defeat or exasperation Elizaveta never figured out. "What?" she asked, analyzing his face in concern.

For a moment, he looked around furtively. She was about to ask what was going on (once again) but that was before she felt his lips touch her cheek ever so gently. And then she couldn't breathe and _was this really happening_?

She wasn't quite sure, because in the next moment the warmth of his lips was gone and instead the drafty air of the kitchen teased the slightly moist spot. He was gone too – having left as soon as his lips left her cheek.

She lifted her fingers to touch the spot to make sure it was real. No, she wasn't imagining it. It was _real_. Roderich had kissed her.

And then it was her turn to look around the kitchen to make sure no one had seen her. Too bad that someone had. Feli was standing by the stove, eyes glistening in wonder.

_That_ was when she blushed, refusing to look at Feli as he blabbered about how wonderful _amore_ was. "Ve~ Lizzy, I knew Mr. Austria was in love with you!"

"S-shut up, Feli!"

"But you two are so cute~"

"You know, I think it's your bedtime now, mister." She rose from her seat and grabbed the little Italian's hand, eager to get away from this conversation. Truly, it didn't embarrass her as much as it made her absolutely giddy, since, after all, Roderich loved her.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **I still feel like I'm taking forever with these updates... most likely because I am ^^; I'm planning on updating more quickly, since Melon will get onto me if I don't. That being said, I hope to have this fic done by late September/early October. But for that, I need to update...

So, anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. The last part is pretty much pointless fluff - enjoy it while you can *ominous music*

* * *

Elizaveta felt almost like Feli on Christmas morning, due to the fact that she simply could not stay asleep after she woke up at some ungodly hour. After laying in bed staring at the ceiling and thinking of Roderich for at least an hour, she got up and worked on cleaning up the kitchen, since Feli hadn't even bothered and the cooks would need to use it in a few hours.

With the work to take her mind off far too girlish daydreams, Elizaveta didn't notice the passage of time besides noting the fact that it was easier to see. Roderich's kitchen was huge and she had moved on to organizing a few storerooms as well.

Done with that task, she moved out into the hallway and made her way toward the music room in order to make sure it was decorated as a surprise for Roderich. However, the man himself was already seated at the piano, oblivious to her presence in the doorway.

She had always liked to watch him, but now that he clearly thought of her in _that way_, the temptation to look at him was even stronger.

His piano playing was choppy and he was overly concentrated on whatever it was, so concentrated that Elizaveta decided that he had to be working on that song once again.

"Morning," she said cheerfully, striding into the room. Roderich looked up from the piano in surprise, then blushed and smiled slightly. "Are you working on my song again?"

"I told you, Elizaveta, it is not your song. It is merely _about_ you." He went back to looking at the keys as Elizaveta leaned against the other end of the piano, propping her elbows on the smooth surface and cupping her chin in her hands.

"Of course it is, Roddy. But that begs the question, why _aren't_ you writing me a song?"

He instantly looked flustered and she grinned at her ability to mess with him. He was so adorably awkward. "Well… I… um…"

"It's alright," she laughed, skipping around to where Roderich was sitting. She threw her arms around his shoulders, still smiling. "Merry Christmas, by the way."

"Merry Christmas to you as well," he said, slightly less disconcerted. "I have a gift for you."

"Really?"

"But of course," he said with a satisfied smile. "I did mention that I… could not stop thinking of you. So, that inevitably led to me purchasing something for you."

"So you bought something for that girl that you had just had a fight with?"

"You're also the girl I can't get off my mind… or off of my shoulders."

Elizaveta laughed awkwardly and sat down beside him on the piano bench. He dug around in his coat pockets for a moment before producing a small box and handing it to her.

"So… what is it?" she asked, running a finger over the lid.

"Open it to find out."

She laughed and gently pried the lid off. Suddenly, Elizaveta was faced with the sparkliest thing since she'd been on a battlefield amid thousands of gleaming swords…

Admittedly, that probably wasn't the best analogy for the clearly expensive necklace that Roderich had bought for her.

"Roderich… it's beautiful," she breathed, gingerly reaching out to touch her gift. It was an elegant silver piece – most likely genuine – with some form of green stone dangling from a pendant in the middle. She was no expert in things like jewelry, but she could tell that this was highly unusual.

He picked it up before she did, taking one end in each hand. "May I?" he asked softly. Elizaveta grinned and gathered her hair into her hand as he fasted the necklace and let it fall against her chest, clashing terribly with her maid uniform. She had a feeling that the dress looked washed-out next to the stone's vibrant green.

She fingered the pendant, still in shock. "You do know that you didn't have to," she ventured. _I don't even like jewelry, and I'm just a servant that you were __mad at__ when you bought this._

"Exactly," he said. "But I wanted to."

"Then thank you. Thank you so, so much." She hugged him fiercely, catching him off guard, but she still felt like her thanks were inadequate. How could _anything _measure up to this gift?

"Well, I would be giving you a gift, but it was burned last night," Elizaveta said after she released her grip.

"You mean the dinner? I, for one, thought that the… uh, events of last night were an excellent gift." Roderich was blushing slightly, which, coupled with his words, made her blush as well, but hopefully not enough to be detectable.

"Ve~ Merry Christmas!" Feli stood in the doorway, beaming at them.

"Merry Christmas, Feli!" Elizaveta said, waving at the boy.

"Look, Lizzy," the boy pointed at the chandelier above the piano. "Mistletoe!"

It took her a moment to remember what the significance of that particular parasite was. Then it hit her. She glanced at Roderich, who was apparently undergoing the same revelation. Italy's clapping was on the very edge of her consciousness. Most of her attention was focused on not letting the awkwardness of the situation utterly overwhelm her.

Roderich reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. She couldn't bring herself to look into his eyes, so she shut hers as they drew closer. Unsure of herself in the dark, she grabbed onto his shoulder right as she felt the firm wetness of his lips against hers.

It wasn't like she hadn't kissed before. Willingly, unwillingly, Elizaveta was no stranger to these things. After all, she was a warrior. Warriors conquered and were conquered, and maybe there was a little affection buried somewhere in there, but flesh against flesh was an alliance and vital regions was more than an innuendo.

She was a warrior still, and always would be, no matter how many jewels Roderich strung around her neck.

And that brought her to her insecurity. She had kissed and been kissed, but never by Roderich, and definitely never for love or anything resembling it. It took her by surprise and for once she realized why humans loved love so much.

The kiss was nothing more than a brief meeting of lips, since there were young, innocent eyes in the room (and Roderich was the one she was kissing), but Elizaveta discovered something right then.

She was a warrior in a maid's dress wearing a necklace that was out of place with either role, but she was most certainly going to be kissing Roderich much more often.

And, damn, they weren't even a day into this.

* * *

However, Elizaveta didn't do much in the "kissing Roderich much more often" category as they progressed into the new year. Her life didn't change all that much, actually. She still had her fair share of chores that she still disliked with a passion. The main difference was Roderich's warmth toward her and the fact that she spent most of her free hours beside him at the piano, listening to him play and sometimes even write her song.

That, though, was just about as affectionate as Roderich got, aside from the occasional compliment or a rare hug when no one was around. And, frankly, Elizaveta was tired of this. It had been nearly a month since they had realized their mutual affection, and she felt that it was high time he stopped acting so emotionally repressed.

In other news, she had finally remembered another reason why she hated dresses. Compared to the men's clothes she'd worn during her childhood and into battle, dresses provided almost no protection from the cold. And, in this huge, drafty house, the cold was a definite problem.

Almost as if she thought she could do something about both of her current issues, she had decided to stay in her room one morning, even though she knew that it was definitely warmer in other parts of the house. If Roderich wanted to come find her, then he could. She definitely wouldn't object to _that_.

Soon enough, Elizaveta heard a knock on her door. "Um… Elizaveta?" It was Roderich – who else?

"Come in, Roddy~" she said, wrapping another blanket around her shoulders.

The door sung open, revealing Roderich looking inexplicably worried. "Are you alright?" he asked, stepping inside.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you hadn't come out of your room, and Feli told me you were in here… I don't know, I thought you were sick or injured or…"

"I'm fine, Roderich," she laughed. "I'm just cold."

"Oh," he said, rubbing his neck as if the action could alleviate the awkwardness of the situation.

It took only a second for a plan to form in Elizaveta's mind – one that would solve both of her problems at once. "I'm **cold**," she repeated.

"I am aware, you already said this."  
"I am **COLD**."

Roderich was not taking the hint and merely staring at her like she was crazy. That was at times debatable, but she was _nearly_ the craziest country out there.

"I'm cold… and bored," she tried again. At this point, Roderich just looked exasperated.

"Then perhaps I could bring you some hot tea and a book."

"Um, no thank you, I-"

"Oh. Well, then, is there anything else I can do for you?"

Elizaveta's brain was halfway occupied by laughing internally at the unwittingly suggestive question, while the other half attempted to formulate a response that would get her what she wanted.

Apparently she had taken too long, since Roderich began to speak again. "No? I suppose if I cannot do anything for you, then I should go check on Italy…"

"No. I'm sure Feli is fine," she said, firmly enough that she hoped it was obvious that he was not allowed to leave.

"Oh… well, then…"

She grinned, feeling victorious, and decided spontaneously to give him a hug. It took him by surprise, obvious by the way he tensed up at first, but he soon relaxed and snaked his arms around her waist.

"I'm still cold," she murmured into his chest.

"Perhaps you should get back in bed, then."

"Mmmhmm." She broke the hug and grabbed his hand before he could react, dragging him over to the bed (which wasn't very far).

"Elizaveta, uh… this is not very proper…" Roderich looked flustered and altogether too worried. It was priceless. He really needed to stop doing that, or it would only encourage her more.

At least he finally understood, she thought. But this was Elizaveta we were talking about, and she wasn't one to take no for an answer. So she looked up at Roderich with her best kicked-puppy look. She wasn't sure how well she pulled it off, but his stern expression melted into one of resignation.

"Fine. But we… you… I… we're not _losing_ anything during this brief respite, are we clear?"

Well, that was disappointing. Elizaveta covered it up with a forced laugh, reminding herself that there would be many, many more opportunities. After all, they were immortal.

"I wasn't even thinking of that," she lied. It probably wouldn't do for him to know how much of a pervert she was. It wasn't even her fault – it was spending her childhood with _Gilbert_ that was to blame.

"Oh… um… well, that's good," Roderich said, attempting to regain his dignity. The lie hadn't been a total waste, since he had that adorable blush again.

"Roddy~ you're so cute!" She couldn't resist teasing him further and even giving him a quick hug.

To her surprise, he actually smiled, instead of looking displeased at this affront to his "manliness". He reached out to slowly brush a stray curl out of her face. "And you are quite… beautiful."

This time, Elizaveta was the one taken by surprise. "Thanks…" she mumbled, not really knowing what to say in response.

He was full-on grinning now, seeing that he finally had the upper hand. "Now, there is no reason for you to stay cold any longer," he said, pulling back the covers.

Seeing that he was actually going to follow through, Elizaveta beamed once more. "Nope!" She crawled over her bed to the side against the wall, attempting to make room for Roderich. He joined her in a much more self-conscious fashion, pulling the covers over both of them and gingerly putting an arm around her shoulders. She snuggled closer, finally somewhere near warm and infinitely glad that she didn't live in Russia.

Roderich leaned over quickly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Perhaps you should rest. You were up late with that… ah… gambling, I suppose."

She laughed. Typical Roderich, disapproving of the games she played with the other servants. "I always win, since I'm the only one who actually stays sober."

"I am aware. I still think you need rest."

"Fine. But you're still not allowed to leave."

"I promise I won't."

Suddenly, Elizaveta had an idea. "I should write that down on our list!"

"What list?"  
"The list of promises. Remember?"  
He looked a little less confused, but only a little. "The one from the party?"

"Yes."

"And what would be the promise?"  
"That you won't leave me."

"Isn't it a little early in our relationship for that?"

This silenced her. Did he _want_ to leave? She rolled over so she faced the wall.

"Elizaveta, don't be like that! I just think it's a little early for such a large commitment…"

"Even best friends can promise never to leave each other."

He sighed. "If it makes you happy, I will promise that."

"Only if you mean it."

"I mean it."

"Then, yes, it would make me very happy." She rolled back over, now smiling, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He smiled back and put his arms around her. "I love you," she whispered, resting her head against his chest.

"And I love you," he replied, lips brushing her forehead. "Now rest."

_Roderich Edelstein promises never to leave Elizaveta Hédeváry._

_ Elizaveta Hédeváry promises never to leave Roderich Edelstein. _


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **What's that, an update?

Well, I've been hard at work with my Literary Guidance Counselor, Melon, and we've managed to plot out the entire story! It's going to be 25 chapters plus an epilogue, and will hopefully be finished at the end of September/beginning of October. To get this done, I should be updating every Monday and Friday from now on. Whether or not that will happen, I'm not entirely sure, but I've got two other long fics in the works that I'm eager to get started on (and refuse to do so until I finish this).

With that in mind, I'm putting up some information on my profile about both projects as well as a poll. I'll be writing both eventually, I just want to know which one to write first~

So if any of you guys are interested, please vote.

That is all.

* * *

**4 Months Later (May)**

It had taken four months of hard work, but Elizaveta had finally done it.

She hardly had time to be proud, however, since her mouth was otherwise occupied and Roddy really _could _be distracting if he set his mind to it. Who knew?

She had one hand working on unbuttoning his shirt and the other tangled in his hair when the other maid walked in. Elizaveta had only chanced to look up, when she was met with the sight of a shocked girl not much older than her (human age, of course.)

"Damn," she whispered. This caused Roderich to actually open his eyes and look at her sternly.

"Langua-" The word died on his tongue when he actually looked at what had produced that response from her. Elizaveta could have sworn she saw Roddy say a word very similar to the one she had just uttered, but she was never quite sure.

The maid cleared her throat, looking around uncomfortably. "Uh, Mr. Edelstein? There is a man here to see you…"

Elizaveta rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Then tell him to-"

"No, Lizzy," Roderich cut her off. "Please, tell him to come in. I will be ready momentarily." The maid nodded and made a hasty exit. Sighing, Elizaveta stood up, followed by Roderich, who was busy buttoning his shirt, most likely in order to avoid the glare being shot at him.

"Lizzy, I would suggest working on some chores until our guest leaves," he said, finishing the last button and moving on to righting the remainder of his clothing.

"Fine," she huffed. "You do know I'm unbearably angry with you, correct?"

"Yes." He turned back to her and gave her forehead a kiss.

When they looked up, there was once again a person in the doorway. This time, however, it just happened to be a relatively important government official.

"Ah, I can return later if this is a bad time…" the man said.

"No, no, now is perfectly fine," Roderich said quickly, giving Elizaveta a stony look that clearly meant "leave". She refused to look at him as she stormed out of the room. She didn't even bother to glare at either of the men.

Unable and completely unwilling to do chores, Elizaveta sat down on the landing of the grand staircase that she was supposed to be cleaning. She pulled her knees to her chest and leaned back against the wall, not caring if anyone saw her in such a position. Even if Edward and John the guards tried anything again, Elizaveta could survive well enough on her own.

Or, at least she had been able to when she was a "boy".

Besides, even if something _did_ happen, it would pay Roderich back for ending that wonderful bonding moment they'd been having on the music room floor. Elizaveta couldn't help feeling like he was being a bit insensitive, as if he were ashamed of her. But that was preposterous. After all, she was a stronger nation than he was… well, she had been years ago. Still, she knew that she could beat Roderich (or anyone else, really) in a fight any day. She'd done it before and sometimes she was far too eager to do it again.

She must have fallen asleep, because the next time she woke up, the light coming in through the window was a different color. Once she had gotten her bearings, she stood up quickly, brushed the dirt off her dress, and bounded down the stairs. Roderich was probably out of his stupid meeting by now.

Still, she approached the music room cautiously, in the very rare chance that the two were still talking. And, of course, to her dismay, she heard voices coming from behind the almost-closed music room doors.

By looking through the crack between the two doors, Elizaveta could see the men sitting on the couch at the far end of the room, sipping what looked to be tea and having what could be none other than a friendly chat.

Sound carried rather well, since it was the music room, after all, and she could actually hear bits and pieces of the conversation. She would have let them be, however if she hadn't heard her name.

"Elizaveta?" Roderich was saying. "Yes, she's the maid you saw with me earlier."

"Are you… seeing her?" the other man asked.

Roderich coughed, which by now she knew meant he was either embarrassed or having an allergic reaction. In this context, she was 99% sure that he was embarrassed.

Why the hell would he be embarrassed about the fact that he was in love with her? If anything, it should be the other way around. Elizaveta was the one that had to deal with the fact that they were polar opposites and that Roderich was completely useless in battle.

"Yes, I am," she heard Roderich say at length. Well, at least he didn't deny it.

"I see. Say, she's that girl from Hungary, is she not?"  
"She is."

"Ah, I see now." There was a pause, which allowed Elizaveta to marvel at the dull nature of this conversation. Then Random Man had to go and ruin it by speaking again. "She seems a bit…"

"Uncivilized? Unladylike? Unsophisticated? They all fit my Lizzy quite well."

She didn't even want to hear the rest of the conversation, so she turned away from the door and walked down the hall to her room. No matter how hard she tried, she simply could not get Roderich's words out of her head. So maybe he _was_ ashamed of her. She couldn't see why, since he had never given any indication before…

But rich people were strange beasts, stranger even than Gilbert when he was going through puberty. It was just like Roderich to be ashamed of loving a girl like her; the fact that he loved her at all barely made sense. There were far more refined women out there, and yet for some reason it had always seemed as if Roderich wouldn't have it any other way.

It was a while before Roderich knocked on her door. "Are you in there, Elizaveta?"

"Yeah."

He pushed open the door and stepped in. "It's late in the evening and you haven't done your chores. Care to explain?"

"No, I do not care to explain," she said defiantly, resorting back to her first ever manner of dealing with him.

"So what did you do while my guest was here?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing other than hearing my lover tell some idiot about how uncivilized I am."

Roderich paled, and she felt the tiniest bit pleased with herself. "You were eavesdropping?"

"If you want to get technical about it, then yes."

"Why?"

"Because I happened to walk by and hear people talking about me."

"So, what were you doing for the remainder of the time?"

"Sleeping."

"You should have been working."

"Well excuse me for being so uncivilized that I didn't think of that."

"Why are you getting so worked up over this?"

"Why are _you_ getting so worked up over the fact that I didn't do my chores?"

"They were your responsibility. I can't just let you have no work to do because of my feelings for you."

"Apparently your feelings prevent you from saying good things about me to your friends as well.  
"Lizzy, I think you're overreact-"

"No, I'm not!" she said, trying not to yell. "Maybe I would just like to feel appreciated once and again. You know, since I really thought you meant something by the way you were kissing me earlier."

"I did! I'm in love with you, Lizzy, so of course it meant something!"

"So what did your words to that guy mean, hm?"

Roderich sighed. "You couldn't hear how I said them? I said, 'Uncivilized? Unladylike? Unsophisticated? They all fit my Lizzy quite well. _That's why I love her, you know_.'"

He said the words fondly now, but she still wasn't sure if he was telling the truth. As if he could see her doubt, he sighed and sat down next to her on the mattress. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, although she still refused to look at him.

"You _do_ know I love you, correct?"

"Sometimes."

"Then I'm sorry for not making it evident all the time." He wrapped his arms around her, and she begrudgingly sank into the embrace.

"How do I know you're not lying?" she asked.

"Well, I do believe that you wrote on your promises list that I had agreed to never lie to you."

"And how do I know you're keeping that promise?"

"You'll just have to trust me."

"How do I-"

"God, why can't this be simple!" he cried in agitation. The sheer strangeness made Lizzy laugh.

"Because you're in love with _me_, not some brainless idiot."

Roderich smiled. "And that's why I'm in love with you."

"Why, because of my extremely witty side?"

"No, because my uncivilized, unladylike, unsophisticated warrior has a rather lovely brain. And, besides, being uncivilized makes her very happy and very beautiful."

Elizaveta couldn't help her goofy smile or her blush as she buried her face in his chest. "Stop," she mumbled.

"Stop what?" He sounded unduly amused.

"Stop being so sentimental. It's annoying."

"You like it."

"No I don't."

"On the contrary, I believe you do."

"You're wrong."

"You know, this time I actually think I'm right."

"No, Roddy, you're never right."

"Well, I do believe I am this time."

"Not a chance."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really." She grinned up at him and slid her hands through his hair. "Am I right, Roddy?" she whispered against his lips.

"I think so," he replied, before gently biting down on her bottom lip and pressing his mouth to hers.

Elizaveta grinned inwardly. She had known all along that he couldn't resist that. Besides, they had been rudely interrupted earlier, and she was determined to make up for that. With this in mind, she promptly started getting rid of the shirt that was blocking her view of Roddy's abs.

"Lizzy," he said, suddenly jerking away.

"What?" Now she was officially annoyed. Why was he stopping her _now_?

"I don't believe we are at a stage in our relationship where we can go to such extremes yet. Perhaps in a few months, or years even-"

"So we're not at a stage where you can be shirtless? Or are you just embarrassed? You shouldn't be embarrassed, Roddy, I'm sure you look amazing without a shirt on."

"Lizzy," he interrupted her babbling. "I'm not talking about my being shirtless, per say… I was mainly speaking of where this may lead."

"And that is?"

"I don't want to do anything beyond kissing you."

Oh.

The silence was almost unbearable. Roderich wasn't looking at her, and she was too busy staring at the floor to really bother noticing him. Maybe staring at the floor helped her think, because she seemed to be doing a good bit of thinking.

"What if I married you?" she asked quietly.

"Then I have a feeling I would never get to put a shirt on."

"At least you've got your sense of humor back."

"It never left."

**-Insert annoying border here-**

"Hey, Roddy?"

"Hm?"

"I'm making you promise to show that you love me all the time."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Yes it does."

"No it doesn't."

"Shut up. I'm making you promise it anyway. That doesn't change anything."

_Roderich Edelstein promises to always show that he loves Elizaveta Hédeváry._

"It still doesn't make sense."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Well, here's Friday's chapter. I'm shocking myself with my ability to update.

Now, I have been a very bad authoress. Why? Because I have neglected to thank all my wonderful reviewers! So, here it is, an AWESOME thank-you to all the AWESOME people who've reviewed this story. I know, I'm terrible about replying to reviews, but that doesn't mean I don't love each every one of them.

So, to thank you guys for this, I'm offering up a oneshot to my 42nd reviewer! It can be any pairing, but I'm not writing any lemons (at least not yet).

There we have it, kids. Enjoy the chapter~

* * *

It had been a nice, peaceful afternoon for roughly 10.63 minutes, even though it was raining outside. Both Elizaveta and Roderich had been sitting in the music room, where Roderich was working on the song that was only about Lizzy and not for her. The girl in question was pretending to read a book, but secretly listening to the disjointed notes and her lover's mutterings.

After 10.63 minutes, however, a pest by the name of Gilbert Beilschmidt decided to stick his albino head through the doorway and make everyone's life miserable.

"Hey, Lizzy!" he yelled, even though she was nowhere near far enough away for it to be necessary. "Guess what? Your day just got _awesome_!"

"If by awesome you mean headache-filled, then, yes, it got very 'awesome'," she replied dryly, going back to her fake reading.

"Gilbert," Roderich said, looking over the top of his glasses at the albino, in an attempt to be intimidating.

"Hah! Roddy's still a total wimp, right, Lizzy?" the other man laughed in response to this.

Elizaveta rolled her eyes. "No. Only when he sees a spider."

"Roddy hates spiders? Awesome!"

Roderich glared at Elizaveta, who smiled sheepishly. "Yes. Just like I hate you, Gilbert. So get out of here before I frypan you."

Of course, Gilbert did not comply. "So, Roddy, Lizzy's the man in this relationship, right? Even though she never grew a-"

"Shut it, or I _will _castrate you," she threatened.

"_Fine_, Lizzy. No reason to be so mean."

"And there's no reason for you to be so mean to Roddy. So stop talking."

"Nah, I think I'm gonna talk some more, if that's alright with you."

"It's obviously _not_ alright with me, idiot!"

"Damn, Lizzy, you're no fun anymore."

"_Leave._" When Gilbert didn't do as he was told, she knew that he wouldn't go away for another few hours, which were a few hours that she was going to spend with Roderich. At the moment, Roderich was sitting on the piano bench, looking sufficiently awkward. He had never been a part of Elizaveta and Gilbert's sometimes friends, sometimes enemies, but all-time "frienemies" relationship, since he had been far too "boring" or "girly" for their rough-and-tumble, "let's go engage in more senseless violence and be awesome at it" kind of fun.

Frankly, he was a little jealous.

Elizaveta didn't notice _that_, but she did see Roderich sitting there, and that was what brought her the solution to removing Gilbert. It was simple, really. All she had to do was walk a few steps over to Roderich, plop down in his lap, and seize his lips with her own for Gilbert to yell, "Get a room!" and, after she started making noises, to give a disturbed, "So not awesome," and run from the room.

Satisfied, Elizaveta pulled back and was in shock to see Roderich looking stoically at her. "Roddy?"

"Yes?"

"You look angry."

"Do I?"

"Yes."

He sighed, turning his gaze toward the floor instead of the girl on his lap. "I'm not angry, Lizzy. It's just… Gilbert. I know I shouldn't let him get to me the way I do, but I sometimes I just can't ignore him."

"Was it the thing about the spiders that bothered you? 'Cause if it is, I'm so sorry for bringing that up."

He let out the closest thing to a laugh that he could manage in this situation. "No, it wasn't that, but thank you for your concern. I'm simply bothered by the fact that no one seems to think I'm… as much of a man as the other countries, I suppose."

At first, Elizaveta could think of nothing to say to that. "Honestly, I don't think I could handle being in love with a manly guy. After all, we'd be constantly fighting over who's the dominant one."

"And that's another problem. Gilbert seems to believe I can't handle you."

Now she was annoyed, along with being shocked. "Handle me? What makes you think I need to be handled?"

Roderich rolled his eyes and rubbed his temple, as if dealing with Italy in an outstanding moment of naïveté. "I didn't mean it in that way, and you know it. I simply meant that Gilbert doesn't seem to believe that I could actually be the dominant part of a relationship."

"You should know I won't agree to that. Gilbert's right – I'm more suited to be the man than you are." For some reason, Roderich's slave master side was coming out, and with it her own rebellious one. The sheer combination was enough to increase her anger.

Luckily for neither, Roderich looked suitably irritated as well. "First off, I must mention that you lack certain aspects of the male anatomy. And, secondly, since when were you and Gilbert so close? I thought _I _was your lover."

"First off," she said snidely, mimicking his superior-sounding tone, "I'm shocked you brought that up, especially since you know I don't like being made fun of for that. Besides, I have more balls than all you idiots put together. And for your information, Gilbert and I have been best friends since long before I was subjected to _your_ rule."

She didn't even bother to answer that last sentence. Shoving herself off of him, she stood up and straightened her skirt. "Elizaveta, what are you doing?" he asked, still looking irked.

"I'm going to do my goddamn chores." Ah, such a convenient excuse. "If anyone's going to be the man in the relationship, that person should at least be able to work with messing up their pretty little piano hands."

Roderich looked a bit shocked and a bit outraged and it made her laugh. She may have loved him to death, but she really wasn't feeling it at the moment. With that, she flashed him a wink and sauntered out of the room.

Once she was satisfied that he wasn't following her (not that he would be, he was probably expressing his anger with that stupid piano), Elizaveta actually went and started to do work. In his current state, Roderich would definitely expect her chores to be done on time, if not before. He sure had a superiority complex at times.

She finished quickly, although she was not quite sure of the quality of her work and, frankly, couldn't care less. "Quickly" for her meant about an hour and a half, and she could _still_ hear faint strains of Chopin coming from the music room. She rolled her eyes and went to put up her cleaning supplies in the kitchen closet.

While she was there, the cook asked her to go get some vegetables from the garden, now that the rain was letting up. Since she had nothing better to do and she figured that she should do all she could to make her fellow servants like her (after all, she _was_ the traitor kissing their boss), she agreed.

She stepped outside with only an empty basket in her hands, stepping around puddles on the stone path as she made her way to the kitchen garden. Back when she was an idiot teenager roaming the world with Gilbert, she wouldn't have minded a few puddles, but now she had to deal with skirts as well as shoes that weren't made for long marches.

Elizaveta was too busy extricating a carrot to pay any attention to what was going on around her. After all, the process of carrot extrication was one that required complete concentration.

"'ello Lizzy," an all-too-familiar voice said from behind. Dreading what she was about to see, she turned her head and was met with the sight of John's ugly face. Right before she could wonder where Edward was, her legs and arms were seized violently. No matter how much she struggled, the larger hands couldn't be budged.

It seemed that John had her arms behind her back and Edward was gripping her ankles as she was forced into a sitting position with her legs straight out. She had a sinking feeling that things wouldn't stay this way for long. Still, the warrior in her began to look for an escape. Soon enough, they'd take their hands off her, if only for a split second, and she would have to seize that window and strike. If not…

Elizaveta _really_ didn't want to think about the "if not".

"I'll 'old 'er down, Edward," John said, practically in her ear. "You can go first."

"Thanks, mate," the other man said, giving her a toothy grin which only revealed a lifetime of terrible oral hygiene. If his brain was as rotten as his teeth were, escape should be no issue.

Sadly, grey matter doesn't rot as easily as neglected teeth, a fact which Elizaveta discovered when Edward sat down on her thighs instead of stupidly giving her legs free motion. Without leaving her much time to think of a new plan, he smothered her lips with his own filthy ones and his tongue soon succeeded in roughly invading her mouth.

And then there were the hands roughly yanking down the top part of her dress after Edward pulled back, as well as the greedy gaze she could feel taking in her exposed skin. She screwed her eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable.

It never came.

"Lizzy!"

She had never heard Roderich sound so powerful. His voice was enough to freeze Edward's hands in midair, enough to wrench her eyes open and enough to loosed John's bruising grip on her forearms.

Within moments, he was at her side, knocking the guards out of the way and helping her up. She pressed herself against him and breathed him in, not caring about how vulnerable she felt or looked.

"So, would either of you care to explain what the meaning of this is?" He fixed both of them with a glare, his grip tightening on Lizzy as she burrowed deeper into his chest.

"Ah…" was all Edward could come up with.

"I _said_, would either of you care to explain this. And that _is_ an order." This was the harshest and fiercest Elizaveta had ever seen of him, and it was terrifying and incredibly hot at the same time.

"We were just, ah… havin' some fun with Lizzy 'ere," John said quickly, a sheepish smile on his face.

Roderich raised an eyebrow in mock skepticism. "Really, now? From what I can tell, it seems that Lizzy was not having too much fun."

"Sir, I can explain…" Edward tried, but he was cut off.

"No, I don't believe you can. Since you are far too imbecilic to explain yourselves, I will take this as I see it. You two may come with me." Roderich led the two offenders into the house, with Elizaveta still holding on to him. Even after other guards took John and Edward away, she had a firm grip on Roderich. It must also be said that he had the stronger hold on her.

"Are you alright?" he whispered against her hair. "Please tell me they didn't do anything to you."

"Nothing I can't handle."

He sighed. "Look, Lizzy, I know you're omnipotent, but let me think I'm your savior once and again."

Elizaveta couldn't help smiling a little. "Alright. But I'm pretty sure that you _are_ my savior today."

"What about tomorrow?"

"You think I'll forget?"

"No, but I'm quite certain you'll remember that you're a fearless warrior who doesn't need anyone to survive."

"Liar. I obviously need you, since I tend to get attacked by random perverts."

"That's because you're gorgeous."

She looked up at him quizzically. "You sound sad, Roddy."

When he smiled, it seemed almost bittersweet. "Why'd you pick me, out of all the nations who could relate to you better? Why me instead of Gilbert?"

"Because Gilbert's an idiot. And so is the rest of the world. Except you, really. Of course you're not an idiot."

"But why? I just don't understand, Lizzy!" He looked so anguished that she wasn't quite sure whether to laugh or comfort him.

"Sometimes, I think love doesn't have to make sense. If it did, where would the fun be?"

He smiled, and Elizaveta figured that he was satisfied, at least for now. "Hey, Lizzy? Can you write something on your promise list for me?"

She grinned. "Sure. What do you want me to write?"

"Write that Roderich Edelstein will always protect Elizaveta Hédeváry."

In response to that, he earned a kiss on the lips, right where they had left off before the argument.

And, later that night, Elizaveta wrote one more thing on the promise list: _Elizaveta Hédeváry promises to let Roderich Edelstein be the man in the relationship… some of the time. _


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Okay, so I didn't update on Monday. T.T Hopefully a day late isn't that bad...

I don't really like this chapter... I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I procrastinated until Monday to write it. Anyway, I'd forgotten a major part of the chapter, so thankfully Melon reminded me. The chapter had killed my brain, so I waited until this afternoon to finish it so it turn out as complete crap.

So, yeah, I don't like this one, but review and let me hear what you guys think. Also, see if you can spot the reference I made to one of my favorite TV shows~ If you think you've found it, put it in your review (durrrrr). Remember that I'm giving out a oneshot to my 42nd reviewer to thank you guys for being awesome. Right now, we're at about 26 reviews, I think. THANK YOU GUYS! *hearts*

**Random Crap: **I just downloaded most of the character songs yesterday. (I'm so behind xD) I'm totally in love with Iggy's "Absolutely Invincible British Gentleman"~ And Spain's version of the tomato song (it's not technically a character song. Sue me.). Ohhh, and "Mein Gott" as well as both of Russia's. America's hamburger song made me laugh and got on my nerves at the same time. Oh, why must my country be so adorably... American?

Anyhow, onward!

* * *

Even though everyone expected Roderich and Elizaveta's relationship to eventually spawn some sort of mangled unified country, that didn't mean he cut her any slack concerning her work. Sometimes, though, she managed to convince him that taking a break wasn't all bad, especially when "taking a break" included extensive kissing and many noble attempts to get rid of his stupid shirt.

So, it came as a shock when Roderich informed her that she actually had a day off. The information came out of nowhere, but that wasn't to say that it was unwelcome. She had grinned and kissed him, which soon disintegrated into more hands and teeth and lips than any real words.

And then she woke up the next morning, far earlier than she should've, and pulled on a pair of pants (which had taken months of begging and pleading to Roddy to actually let her purchase them), a plain, white shirt, and her old boots. Grinning wildly, she tied her useless long hair back and set off to have an awesome day of kicking Gilbert's ass in any and everything.

Despite the fact that it was early in the morning, Roderich was awake, and surprisingly, in the kitchen. Of course, he looked flustered, stepping quickly in front of whatever he had been preparing.

"Hey, Roddy!" she said brightly, stepping over to his side and giving him a peck on his cheek. "You're up early."

He coughed, a sure sign of him feeling awkward. "Ah, yes. I could say the same for you."

"Well, I _do_ have the day off! I figured I'd make the most of it. So, I'm headed out to Gilbert's place. I'm thinking we'll find some of the guys and go out drinking and wreaking havoc like the good old days!" She was grinning again, part maniacally, part ecstatically.

Unnoticed by Elizaveta, Roderich's face fell. "I see. Well… I, uh, hope you have fun, then. Just… be safe, promise?"

"I will." She reached up to give him another quick kiss. "You want me to add that to our list?"

"If it makes you happy," he said, almost resignedly.

"You're sweet, Roddy." She smiled again, and maybe it was almost worth it, in his opinion. With one last kiss on the cheek, she was gone, muttering something about hoping Poland was awake.

***insert ugly border here***

Now that Elizaveta had left him alone for the day, Roderich wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. He repeated over and over again that it was okay, Lizzy was happy, and that was a good thing, right? She's going to hate you if you keep her caged, you know.

Still, it was hard. What did Gilbert have that he didn't? Why, at the mere mention of a day off, did she dress up like a boy and run off to spend time with Prussia and Poland, two of the most idiotic nations he knew? Was he not good enough?

The thought terrified him. He sat down at his piano, but couldn't bring himself to even touch the keys. Ah, that was it. Of course Elizaveta preferred the warrior type, her companions from the times gone by when she had run free and wild and been on top of the world.

There was nothing in a shy, socially awkward aristocrat to attract her for very long. She was beautiful and free and wild and beautiful… the list went on and on (and on and on). He was just boring, black and white like a piece of sheet music or the very piano that mocked him.

He didn't deserve her. No one did. Was there really anyone in this world – or any world – that would ever be good enough to love a woman like Elizaveta Hédeváry?

Of course not. And the least of these was Roderich himself.

It was beyond him why she had decided to lavish her attention upon him. He had _really_ done nothing to deserve it. _Nothing_. She was his lover, at least for now, and she was still forced to work like a common servant (she was anything but). Of course she would want to get away at the soonest possible moment in order to be with the people she actually liked.

"Ve~ Austria?" Almost like a little pest or an Italian boy who simply could not read the atmosphere, Feliciano stood beside him, looking up with his mysteriously closed eyes.

"Yes, Italy?"

"Where's Lizzy?"

Roderich coughed for the second time within about thirty minutes. "Ah… I gave her the day off. I believe she is with Gilbert right about now."

"Ve?" The boy sounded even more confused than usual. "But I thought you two were going to do something together."

Discarding any lewd thoughts derived from that statement, Roderich kept staring at his piano and sighed. "We were, but I was going to surprise her and I didn't think she would run off with all her friends. And then when she told me what she had planned, she looked so happy I didn't want to ruin her smile…" He sighed again. "She's so pretty when she smiles…"

"Austria is sad, ve? Maybe music will make him happy again~"

He laughed wryly. "No, I don't think so. I think Elizaveta prefers Prussia because he _doesn't_ play music."

"That's silly, ve~ Lizzy loves Austria very much."

"Well, I had originally assumed so. But sometimes I feel that she prefers that… albino instead of me. I can see why, but…"

"But what?"

"But I'm pouring out all my sorrows to a child. That's what." He gave the piano another stare, this one absolutely defeated.

"Ve? What's wrong with that?"

Roderich actually managed a smile, albeit a slightly cynical one. "I simply feel… pathetic, Italy. I suppose I cannot understand why exactly Elizaveta is in love with me, as she claims."

"Then ask her!" The Italian said this as if it were obvious.

"I can't! She's not here!" His frustration was evident, a far cry from his typical stoic demeanor.

"Ask her when she gets back, ve~"

He bit his lip. "Alright, then. I just cannot-"

"Lizzy loves you," Feliciano cut in. "I know it."

"How?" He was sure he sounded shocked, but was past the point of caring.

"Well, she doesn't beat you with a frying pan like she does to Gilbert. And she doesn't call you mean names or try to castrate you, whatever that is." (Roderich had a feeling that he knew why she wanted his vital regions intact.) "Oh, and she kisses you a lot. See, when you kiss someone that means you love them. Holy Roman kissed me because he loved me, and Lizzy kisses you a lot more than he kissed me, so that must mean she loves you a whole lot!"  
Roderich couldn't help smiling at the boy's strange logic. Too bad he didn't have as much faith as Feli did.

So, for the rest of the day he poured himself into his piano, alternating between the most difficult pieces he could think up and writing his song about Elizaveta. He couldn't help the fact that the resulting notes were sad, bittersweet, questioning, since, as usual, the song was an extension of his current feelings for her.

It wasn't her song; it was more like _their_ song. Roderich's song and Elizaveta's song. He supposed it told the story of the two of them. How much longer that song would last was anyone's guess.

He was still playing late into the night. It was dark outside, most likely far into the early morning. He hadn't bothered to count hours after Feli had come in to give him a goodnight hug.

By the time Elizaveta came in, only slightly tipsy, he was asleep, slumped against the piano. Due to this, he didn't register her lips brushing his forehead before she stumbled back to her own room.

***border goes here***

Elizaveta woke up the next morning, completely hangover-free, unlike several unfortunate nations by the name of Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio. She sighed, since her day off was over and she now had to return to cleaning random parts of Roderich's inordinately large house.

In another effort to appease the rest of the staff, she took upon herself to clean the kitchen. It was a nice, late summer day, so she cracked open one of the several windows on the far side of the kitchen overlooking the spice garden.

It wasn't long until she heard voices coming from outside the window, most likely from the spice garden. As usual, she paused in her cleaning, standing to the side of the window in order to listen better.

"Did you hear what that traitor _did_ yesterday?" It was clearly the voice of one of her fellow maids, not much younger than how Elizaveta appeared.

"Part of it. I know the master had planned something and then she just left."

Well, it was pretty obvious they were talking about her. All the more reason to stay, then.

"She's so ungrateful! What does he even see in her?"

The second maid giggled. "Ooh! You're jealous!"

"No! Why would I be jealous of _her_?"

"Because the master is in love with her."

"Stop! Don't you want to hear what happened?"

"Fine. But you know you fancy him."

"I said stop. Now, listen here. Cook told me that Master came to her the day before yesterday and told her she didn't need to make him any food the next day. She asked why, and he told her that he was taking that traitor to see some wandering minstrel show. I suppose they're good, if Master is going to see them."

"Really? What minstrels?"

"The ones that sing some song about a secret tunnel through the mountains. Oh, and he was going to take her to some restaurant, too. He spends far too much money on her, in my opinion."

"So you _are_ jealous!"

Elizaveta didn't bother listening past then. She drifted away from the window, good mood sinking even further. No wonder he'd looked so dejected the previous morning.

She knew what she had to do. Abandoning all thought of cleaning, she nearly ran through the house to the music room. When she saw that he wasn't there, she dashed up the stairs, looking in every room until she reached Roderich's own. He had to be in there. Of course he was tired, so he would most likely be sleeping still.

She took a deep breath and grabbed the handle, wrenching the door open. She let out that deep breath when she noticed him, still asleep. He was unbearably cute like that.

Banishing any thought of maturity from her mind, she ran and jumped onto the bed, in essence tackling Roderich. As expected, this woke him up. Groggily, he looked up at the girl clinging to him. He was sure she hadn't been there when he stumbled into bed early that morning.

"Lizzy?" he managed to ask.

"Yes?" she replied, snuggling against him.

It was then that he noticed how awkward of a situation they were in. He pulled himself into something like a seated position, displacing Lizzy. "That was… improper."

"What? My jump?"

"No, the fact that you were laying on top of me in bed."

"Oh. Sorry." And then she remembered why she had come in the first place. "And I'm so sorry about that thing yesterday. So, so, sorry. Seriously, Roddy, I had no idea. I mean, if you told me I wouldn't have… ugh, _please_ don't hate me!"

For some reason, Roderich looked confused as she deteriorated into a Lizzy-sized bundle of distress. He reached out a hand to try to calm her. "Lizzy, what's wrong?"

"Yesterday. You had all these wonderful things planned and I completely abandoned you! I didn't mean to, honest, I didn't!"

"It's alright. As long as you enjoyed yourself. You did, didn't you?" he lied, attempting to change the subject.

"Of course! Gilbert was already awake, so we went to Feliks' house and dumped water on him to wake him up. It was awesome! He kept squealing about his hair for half the day! Oh, and then Gilbert had to go get his idiot friends Francis and Antonio, but I told Francis I'd castrate him with my frying pan if he tried to grope me. He still tried though, and I knocked him out for about an hour and Gilbert and Antonio painted a moustache on him, kinda like what Feli did to your painting. Oh, and then we…"

She kept talking for a while longer, but he found it in his best interest not to listen to how much fun she had without him. He waited until the only sound was the silence and her breathing, and then he spoke.

"Lizzy, why are you in love with me?"

She looked sufficiently shocked by this. "Why do you ask? Isn't it obvious?"

"No. I wouldn't have asked if I knew."

Sarcasm. That meant he was angry, disturbed, or insecure. Most likely a combination. "Roddy, there's too many reasons. I can't list them all, since I'd have to list pretty much your entire personality. You're sweet, you're always thinking of me, you try so hard in everything you do, and even if you fail in trying I still know what you meant and that's what is important. I think I pretty much love you because you're you."

It sounded trite and impersonal, that last bit, but he knew her well enough to see the expression on her face and recognize the fact that she most likely meant what she said. "So you don't love Gilbert? Because if you did, I'd unders-"

He was cut off by a laugh. "Gil? No way. If we were attempting to be in love, he would be dead or without the ability to reproduce within a matter of hours."

Slightly reassured, Roderich chanced a small smile. "Lizzy, I-"

"I'm not God, Roddy. I'm just a country like you. I don't plan on abandoning you anytime soon. Isn't that in our promise list?"

"I'm not quite sure."

She smiled and took a rumpled piece of paper out of her apron pocket. "Here," she said, pointing to a line of sloppy writing. "It says _Elizaveta Hédeváry promises never to leave Roderich Edelstein._"

"That's rather implausible. Are you sure you want to… chain yourself to me in such a way?"

She laughed again, although he couldn't quite see what was so funny. "It's not chaining," she whispered, worming her way back onto his lap, "if I agree to it."

Although her lips on his didn't blot out all worries, it helped him get his mind off things far more effectively than any alcohol ever would.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **So sorry about the late updates! In my defense, I had this chapter ready to post on Friday night, but I wasn't able to get on the Internet until now. I still plan to have the next chapter out tomorrow, if I can get it written by then T.T

This chapter was kind of taken over by chibi!Russia and chibi!Belarus (too cute~). It wasn't until after I'd written the chapter that I realized those two wouldn't have been so chibi at the time when the story is supposed to take place. History fail on my part. So, just ignore that, I guess. I never expected the story to be very accurate anyway. Funny thing is, Melon/West and I discovered that a lot of the other plot points actually work with history pretty well, even though we were bad and didn't do research.

Anyway, here it is. I think you guys will like this one 8D

* * *

"So, please remind me why I'm here again," Katyusha said, watching Roderich pace back and forth across the floor of the stuffily decorated front room. She had given up on watching him before she had even started, even though the other option was to keep and eye on her siblings. Ivan was easy to keep civilized, since he was merely gaping at the entire room. Natalia, on the other hand, was examining every potentially dangerous object she could lay her hands on.

"Look, sister," Natalia said, staring at Katyusha with large blue eyes. "It is a knife." She held up the ornate weapon, smiling slightly.

"It is. Now put it back."

"Let me see!" Ivan interrupted, taking the knife from his sister. "Nat! It's shiny, da?"

"Da!" the younger girl agreed enthusiastically, clapping her hands as she tried to get the weapon back. "I wanna hold it!"

"Nyet!"

Roderich was only _mildly _disturbed. He had more important things to nearly have a heart attack about than Katyusha's borderline psychotic siblings.

"Ah, yes, Ukraine, I do believe you asked me why I had invited you over," he continued, ignoring Natalia and Ivan's argument.

"Mmmhmm." The other nation was distracted as she grabbed a squirming Natalia by the waist and pulled her onto her lap.

"Kat! I wanna play with Ivan!" the little girl protested.

"Sshh. I'm talking to Austria right now." She turned her gaze to Roderich, who still looked uncomfortable. "I apologize. And, yes, I did ask that."

"Right. So… I suppose I had better come out and say it…" He paused, Katyusha's gaze still fixed on him, even with Natalia straining at her grip and Ivan fingering the knife.

For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to voice his thoughts. He had been able to tell the messenger he sent to the other nation, but not the woman herself. Obviously, he was terrified, and the two smaller countries weren't helping.

"Kat, why isn't he speaking?" Natalia asked, looking up at her sister with her same innocent expression. "Do we need to torture him?"

"No!" Katyusha replied instantly. "That's not how we treat people, is it, Nat?"

The younger looked confused. "But… I thought it was."

"Well, it's not, dear. Roderich is just taking his time; he'll talk to us in a moment. See, when someone doesn't tell you something, you either ask or wait for his or her answer. Being mean won't help you."

Natalia was quiet for a moment as she pondered this. "You are funny, sister. That is a funny way of doing things, right, Ivan?"

The boy didn't bother thinking for long. "I think you should give them sunflowers!"

"I like sunflowers," Natalia informed Roderich, giving him her best serious stare. "I like them because Brother does."

"Natalia! Please, be quiet for just a moment so Roderich can speak!" Katyusha gave him a flustered smile. Natalia took advantage of her sister's embarrassment to break free of her restraints and crawl over to Ivan, settling herself in his lap with her head on his shoulder.

"Um… very well then," Roderich said, still unsure of whether or not he actually wanted to share with her, now that she was here. "I asked for you to visit because… I need advice. Now that Italy has left my house, I really have no one to ask for… matters such as this."

"Advice?" She seemed shocked that anyone would actually ask her for advice on anything. After all, she was the one who had failed in raising her two siblings, no matter how normal they looked with Ivan's arm around his sister and her snuggled against him.

"Yes… advice. You _are _a woman, after all, so I presumed that you would be of the ability to aid me in this… endeavor."

She giggled lightly, since Roderich's nerves were showing. "Calm down, Austria. I'll try my best to help you, although I'm not sure how well I'll do." She cast a furtive glance at her cuddling siblings.

"Ah… of course." He took a deep breath and looked away. It would be easier to get it all out at once. "I was planning on proposing to Miss Hungary."

"That is so sweet!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands. This outburst caused Natalia to look, curiosity barely showing on her emotionless face.

"Is proposing getting married?" she asked.

"Yes, Nat. When you propose to someone you love a lot, it means you want to get married."

"Oh." The young country sounded like she'd had a low-key epiphany. She looked like she was about to say something else, but she instead laid her head back on Ivan's tiny chest.

Katyusha was planning on giving Roderich yet another apologetic glance, but he was too busy blushing and looking away. She sighed. Why did she always have to be the mature one? "So, Roderich, what exactly do you need help with?"  
"Well, I need a way to propose to her," he said, trying to sound businesslike while suppressing his blush.

All three of the visiting nations seemed deep in thought for a few minutes, all the while Roderich began pacing nervously once more.

"I know!" Natalia said at length. Both Roderich and Katyusha seemed to be dreading the child's idea. "You should just ask her, and if she says no you can cut off her finger and put the ring on it anyway."

The creepy factor was only intensified by the completely normal tone in which she had been speaking for the entire visit.

"Nat, that's not very nice," Katyusha said. "If you loved someone, would you want to cut off their finger?" The younger girl nodded. "What about Ivan? Would you want to cut off _his_ finger?"

She thought about this for a moment. "Does this mean I can propose to him?"

Everyone looked sufficiently disturbed, although Katyusha looked as fed up as a person like her could. "Nat, dear, why don't you and Ivan go play in the garden?"

"Do they have sunflowers?" Ivan asked, looking far too hopeful.

"Um… I'm sure they do." The young country brightened at his sister's words, and immediately dragged Nat away, prattling on about sunflowers.

Katyusha let out a relieved sigh as she turned back to Roderich. "I am _so_ terribly sorry about them. Sometimes I feel like I have completely failed at raising them…"

"It's alright," Roderich said, awkwardly patting er shoulder.

She smiled slightly, letting out another sigh. "So, yes, I have a plan. If you want to, here's what I think you should do…"

***insert obnoxious border here***

As a (former) warrior, Elizaveta should have learned to expect surprise attacks. However, when they came from her uptight lover of more than a year, they were practically nonexistent and therefore completely unexpected. So, it was perfectly rational that when she felt arms encircling her waist from behind, she instantly went into attack mode . "Hello, Lizzy," Roderich said, so close that she could feel his lips moving against her neck as he spoke.

"Mmm?" After realizing that it was Roderich after all, she let herself abandon any though if actually doing chores and instead leaned back against his chest.

"I need you to do something for me."

"What kind of thing? Maybe something in bed?" she asked playfully, knowing full well how he would react. Still, she couldn't help hoping that someday soon he would let up.

"Don't be so lewd." She could picture his blush, which caused her to laugh. "My morals are not amusing." Even Roderich didn't sound serious as he said that.

"Yes they are. Why else would I be laughing?"

"Because you're cruel and insensitive." He kissed the top of her head as he said this, which was oddly forward for him. Usually Elizaveta would have to be the one to instigate any sort of physical affection.

"You know me," she laughed. "Now, what did you want me to do?"

"Stop using that tone. It's nothing remotely related to our relationship. I simply need you to clean the music room for me."

She groaned. "The music room? You're making the woman you love clean the largest room in this fu-"

"Language. And, yes, I am. I'm terribly sorry, but I need you to do this."

"Why? There are tons of other maids who you can boss around. You can't do that to me you know, because then I might decide I'm tired of you."

It was meant as a half-joke, but Elizaveta could have sworn she heard Roderich gasp. "Please, Lizzy," he said, sounding like he had lost most of his composure, "for me?"

She paused. If he had not sounded quite so broken, she would have vehemently refused. But, since he seemed rather distressed, she sighed audibly and none too gently broke free of his hold. "Fine."

"Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me."

"No, I don't, because I can't see what meaning me cleaning the largest floor in the house has, unless it turns you on or something."

"That's not it!" he said rapidly. "There are some supplies in there already."

Something was definitely up. She gave him a long, obviously annoyed stare before she walked off in the direction of the music room. Sure enough, when she arrived she saw, sitting absurdly in the middle of the floor, a bucket. Nothing else but that random bucket.

Rolling her eyes, Elizaveta walked over to the bucket and looked inside, still moving cautiously as the peculiar situation dictated. However, she could see nothing out of the ordinary but the soapy water.

Since she would need _something_ to clean with and Roderich had told her that she wouldn't need to bring any supplies, that left the possibly of there being something to use hidden inside the bucket. She kneeled in front of it and stuck her hand into the water, feeling around for a cloth or other such object.

Instead, her hand brushed against what felt like a box. Intrigued, she ran her hand by that spot again and, sure enough, her fingertips brushed wood too smooth to be that of the bucket. Fishing around once more, she managed to grab the little box and pull it out.

It was a well-made little thing, tightly sealed to protect its contents from the water. As to why it was in there in the first place, Elizaveta had no clue. However, she didn't plan on letting this stop her from finding out just what was inside. For something that bizarre, it was surprisingly easy to open.

All it contained was a diamond ring.

For a moment, all thought ceased. Just as she realized what this most likely was, Roderich was at her side, kneeling beside her. "I hope you're not too mad at me," he murmured.

"Only if this means what I think it means."

"Then I will gladly explain." He gulped and turned to face her, adjusting his position so that he was now on one knee. He gently took the box from her hands and cleared his throat once more, as if it would help him gather his courage. "Elizaveta… my boss has been speaking to me about something… something very, very important that will most definitely change both of our lives. He claims that it is only temporary but… even if it is, I feel that it will be better than nothing. I know that we have only been aware of and actively displaying our feelings for a year or so, but we have known each other for far longer and I… I want this. It is my boss's command, but I believe that I want it more than he. So, I suppose I have nothing left but to ask you, my dearest Lizzy… will you marry me?"

Even though she had definitely seen it coming, especially after he started blushing, his words still took her by surprise. "Roddy," she said slowly, taking a deep breath, "that was one of the things I thought you would never say." She glanced at him (instead of the floor) and saw a mixture of hope and despair in his expression. "And therefore I have no reservations in saying 'hell yes!'"

He was barely able to say, "Language," before Elizaveta tackled him with a fierce hug. He was smiling, she knew, as he reached around her to take the ring out of its box and slide it on to her left ring finger.

As soon as she felt the foreign metal band around her finger, she reached up to cup his face in her hands. "I love you, Roderich Edelstein," she whispered against his lips before pressing the tiniest bit further. Almost automatically, his hands went to her waist as he gently bit down on her lower lip and it began again.

While Elizaveta figured that this should have been the sweetest, most loving kiss the two had ever shared, it felt more like something out of her more perverse dreams. It was more hands and teeth and tongue than the slow, sappy kisses that had become normal. Not that she had a problem with those, but this was a side of her Roddy that she had never before seen.

Seriously. It wasn't every day that he was on top of her while she laid on the floor on the floor, kissing her senseless – this was as close to dominating someone as he had probably ever come, and she decided that she kind of liked it.

Roderich's hand was halfway to her chest when she heard an all-too-familiar "Ve?" from the doorway.

That caused any kissing to stop (and Roderich's hand to lose any progress, she noted sadly), their gazes drawn to the three figures looking at them in various degrees of shock. The only two Elizaveta actually recognized were Italy and Prussia. The blonde boy next to the albino was a mystery.

"Veeee! _Amore_! You are so cute~" Feli exclaimed, clapping. The new boy looked at him with a mixture of disapproving and disturbance.

This caused the two on the floor (even though Roddy was no longer on top of her) to blush and the strange boy to shove the doors closed. However, that didn't stop Gilbert's cry of, "Lizzy's doing it with _HIM_?"

**OMAKE**

"Ivan? Nat? Time to go!" Katyusha called, walking out into the garden looking for her younger siblings. Of course she loved them, but sometimes they grated on her nerves. Like now. The two were nowhere to be found. It wasn't as if sunflowers grew in the middle of winter. That was probably why Ivan was so thrilled whenever he saw them.

Suddenly, she noticed a brown-ish clump off to her left, away from the rest of the garden. Curious, she headed toward it. If her siblings couldn't find a sunflower patch, then they would most likely settle for the most morbid place they could find.

Turns out, the clump was both. She was abruptly met with the sight of an old sunflower garden; the stems bent over so it was almost like a cave. The plants were gray now, so it was easy to see the bright(er) colors of her siblings' clothes between the stalks. Ivan was curled up on the ground, asleep, with one arm around Natalia. It was almost cute, despite the location.

"Kat?" Natalia asked softly. "Are we leaving now?"

Her big sister nodded. "We are. Now wake up your brother so we can go."

"Ivan won't want to."

"This isn't about what Ivan wants. I need to get you two home."

Natalia said nothing and pouted. It didn't last long, however, since she immediately brightened. "Look, Kat!" she exclaimed, sitting up and holding out a particularly grey and wilted sunflower with most of the petals missing.

"What is it, Nat?" She tried to sound as sweet as possible, but she wasn't sure how well it came out.

"Look at the flower I picked for Brother!"

Katyusha could only smile and nod.


End file.
